Dije Vos Molar, Dijeron Buen Intento
by PrincessWriter123
Summary: As dreams swirl around Lance's mind, and answers that only lead to more questions, dance between the stars and beg the Blue Paladin into the unknown, Lance finds himself suck between three lives: one on Earth, one with Voltron, and one that only come in dreams that beg at the corners of his mind. And Lance has found himself in the center of the galaxy, a burning star.
1. A Field Of Flowers I Don't Remember

He knew he was dreaming, but oh did it feel real. It felt like a movie being played out before him on a screen. And he was the main character. It was strange, but he wished that the dream could have been real. That's how it made him feel. It felt like a memory more than anything, but he knew it was not. That would be impossible. "Lance!" It was a cheerful, loving shout that filled the blue-eyed boy with elation. His older sister moved towards him quickly, and Lance didn't even have to think as he flung himself into Allura's open arms. She set him down and took his hand, her white hair loose and swinging in the faint breeze that ruffled throughout the meadow. "Come along, Lance," she said with a smile to her younger brother, "Let's go see Dad!"

The biggest grin split across Lance's face at the mention of his father; he ran off towards the palace, eagerly pulling his elder sister with him. It wasn't long before they reached the Castle of Lions. The two bright-eyed children busted in, not caring about the chuckles their silly behavior gained as they dashed through hallways.

"Uncle Xio!" Lance cried, dropping Allura's hand and instead throwing himself at the Blue Paladin. Xio Almanty picked up his 'nephew' swinging him into the air, both his and Lance's giggles bouncing around the room. He was a very handsome man, with his wind-tousled, salt-and-pepper hair and aquamarine eyes that glimmered has he laughed boisterously. His skin was the same rich tan as Allura and the rest of her family, but the small, glowing patches were a shimmering admiral blue, only a few shades away from Lance's midsummer sky blotches.

"Catch, Auntie Aria," Xio shouted as he swung Lance through the air, letting go at just the right time to allow the current Yellow Paladin, a pretty young ginger by the name of Aria Chast, to catch Lance as his short flight through the air ended. She chuckled, allowing the young prince to scramble up onto her shoulders. The kind and caring, yet stern, person she was showed through as she shook her head with mock disapproval.

"Now, now, Xio. You should know to be careful by now. How do you think Alfor would feel if he knew you were tossing his son around like a sack of potatoes." But despite the chastising tone, she bantered and smiled brightly at her fiancee.

Michael "Mickey' Balor, the Red Paladin, lept forward, pulling Lance into his grip. He then swung the young, giggling boy onto one shoulder, before he reached down picking up Allura and settling the princess onto his open, left shoulder. Mickey chose that moment to march the children further into the towering villa, leaving his teammates to their playful coze.

He strode forward with deliberate steps that slapped the tile as he pranced through the fortress, heading towards where the king sat. Crooning with happiness to the children on his shoulders, Mickey spoke, "You little tykes need to head off to bed soon. It's getting late in the evening."

"But I don't want to!" Lance protested, even as he yawned. "'M not tired at all."

"Lance," Darby, the petite Green Paladin who had appeared somewhere along the walk, said lightly, a smile hanging onto her words. "I think your father would disagree. Besides, don't you want to grow up big and strong, so you can be a Paladin when the time comes?"

"Of course!" the small boy chirped, "And 'Lura will be there, too!"

"You'll need to rest a lot to get there then," Mickey said, knowing he had won the argument.

"Oh, alright," Lance conceded, just as the four arrived at their destination. The two Paladins gently sat the young royalty into their father's lap and smiled. Darby brushed aside the excitable boy's cinnamon hair out of his eyes. She and Mickey bowed to the king with short farwells of, "Goodnight, King Alfor. See you in the morning." and the like.

Alfor smiled down at his son and daughter. Both were already half asleep, curled up on his lap. "Shall I tell you a story?" he quietly asked his progeny. They both nodded happily, snuggling deeper into his embrace. A slight laugh escaped his lips, "I think I have the perfect one. Are you two comfortable?" The king continued with encouraging nods from his offspring. "Then let me tell you about Balmeras…"

It wasn't until an hour later that the King of Altea finished his story, yawning. Allura and Lance had fallen asleep halfway through, but Alfor finished his tale anyway. He picked them up, walked down the halls and settled them both in the bed in Allura's room. Pulling the covers over them, the mirth-filled man decided that letting them sleep together for one night was acceptable. After all, Lance had less nightmares that way.

Letting out a sound, half drowsy sigh, half exhausted yawn, Alfor headed towards his own room, in need of sleep. Ultimately, the brewing tensions with the Galra would soon turn into a boiling war, and the King was unsure how long it would be until then. He was even less sure of how much sleep he would likely get in the months to come.

Lance woke up on the verge of tears, yet he did not know why.

Lance was homesick. That was not unusual, but this was a different kind of homesick. This wasn't the normal sadness and missing his family. No, it was a deep yearning that furrowed out from his soul, covered in nettles of sorrow, a deeper connection than that he had to his family back on Earth.

There was a word for it, and as Lance drew himself from under the covers, he struggled to remember it. Hiraeth. Yes, that was the word. Luciana, his eldest sibling had explained it to him when he was seven. He had caught her writing the word for a paper and had asked what it meant.

"Hi-wrath, Lancey. That's how you say it. It means a homesickness for a home you never had, or can't return to. Isn't that sad?" she had said, smiling and pulling her younger brother into her lap. Lance remembered the moment with a soft sigh. He had been young, but he had also been bright. Luciana was going to be a writer, and many a times growing up would he sit in her lap and watch her write. Beg her to read him or tell him stories before bed. It had become their little tradition.

Tears prickling his eyes, Lance stood and blinked them away. His throat was dry and tight, so, swallowing the lump lodged there, he pushed open the door and wandered down the halls toward the kitchen for a glass of water. Once he had the cup of water clasped in his hands, Lance sat in a chair and allowed himself to reminisce in the old times, something he rarely indulged in.

Luciana fresh on his mind, he wasn't surprised the next fond memory to make an appearance was one with her.

It was late, and Mamá was going to be out even later, so with Luciana in charge and all of Lance's younger brothers and sisters in bed, a twelve year-old Lance and Luciana sat in the living room and the older of the two read her current story aloud. They had been quietly giggling and chatting for a good thirty minutes when the door opened. It had been Elias, who was 16 at the time, returning from the late shift at his part-time job. **"Luciana, żqué hace Lance hasta esta hora? Mamá tendrá su cabeza, ya sabes [1],"** he had said shaking his head in mock disapproval, but joined them all the same. The three joked and laughed and smiled, listening to the brontide roll in the distance. And that was how Carla McClain found three of her children when she returned, all of them huddled and spilling across each other, sleeping peacefully and overlapped on the small couch.

Lance let out a heaving sigh. He missed Eli the most, as they had been the closest. He had only been four years older, and after Luciana left for college, the two would spend days wasting away playing silly games and pretending they were from the Garrison flying through space and finding new planets and alien life. Eli had been the one Lance had gone to crying after the 'death' of Takashi Shirogane, Lance's life-long hero.

But he still locked away the memories of Elias as much as possible. He tried his best to not think about everything that had happened not too long ago. Lance had just started at the Garrison, only two months in, when it happened. It was a letter, a second letter inclosed inside. The first page had been a message from his parents. Just looking at the smudged page, tears pulling at the ink, Lance had been filled with cold, bitter dread. And he was right. By the end of the leng message, he was in tears. He had bawled his eyes out. How could he not when his older brother, his best friend, had taken his own life? When he had only left a letter specifically addressed to Lance? And only Lance? No, the Blue Paladin refused to speak of it, to even think of it. He just could not do that to himself.

Taking a deep breath, Lance locked away those thoughts once again. He stood and, glass of water still in hand, let his feet wander, guide him to wherever he needed to go. Where he needed to go ended up being the hangar where all the lions 'slept'. He liked the lions, all of them. They liked him too, all of them. And sometimes it seemed like they were the only ones.

Lance? Blue Paladin? Red's thoughts poured into the teen's head. Her comforting touch slid around his consciousness, like an invisible hug; the comfort tangling him with fiery warmth, like a carefully-tended hearth. Awake? Why?

Lance chuckled, gliding over to carefully pat her foreleg. Whenever he ventured out into the hangar alone, no shields ever stayed up. All of the lions allowed Lance to wander between them, talk to them, as if he was each of their Paladins. Maybe it was how unguarded they were around him that constantly pulled him back to the hangar. "I'm fine, Red. Just couldn't sleep. That's all." He wandered off towards Blue with one last reassuring pet on Red's paw. He hummed a tune soft and familiar as he crossed to stand next to Blue.

He settled down, sitting with his back against her cobalt forelimb. He pressed his cheek to the cool metal. He absentmindedly thought about how she was the same aegean color as azure skies back in Varadero Beach, back in Cuba. He hummed a little louder, before he finally let a few words tumble forth from his lips,  
"Las estrellas en el cielo  
Tienes una historia para contar  
Si solo escuchas [2]"

The lullaby Mamá used to sing to him as a child coated his tongue with the heady flavor of homemade caramel and kettle corn, and he could practically smell the warm vanilla musk she carried with her wherever she went. It was almost like a cloud followed her everywhere, brightening everyone's day. Lance let out a content sigh, allowing the cool calmness that flowed like a stream into him via the bond he and Blue shared.

Paladin, her voice flowed into Lance like a babbling brook that puttered along smooth, clean riverstones, adding music to the silence of a sunny meadow. The affection and warmth in her tone had the tension unwinding from Lance's shoulders, melting away his anxieties, in a matter of seconds. Why are you here? You should be resting. Did the princess not say you and your allies would be heading out on a diplomatic mission tomorrow? Are you not trying to gain alliance with the Holdsugár? Blue gently chided Lance. He flushed slightly, caught red-handed. But Blue always seemed to know, so he had gotten used to it. It was their bond, he supposed. She knew everything about Lance and slowly, painfully so, Lance was beginning to learn everything about her in return. He knew how to gently stroke her when he felt rage and a burning desire to destroy the Galra, and she knew how to brush up against his consciousness when his farce of fanfaronade began to crumble. They bolstered each other and the bond they shared was more than any other affinity there could possibly be. They were one in two, and when they fought battles, they were no longer Blue and Lance, but became BlueandLance. A smush of perfect coordination and perfectly aligned emotions.

Lance exhaled, turning to their mental link, the one Blue shared through, too paranoid not to. I couldn't sleep. I had a dream, not a bad one though. In fact, it was rather pleasant. But i can't remember it and i feel homesick but not for Earth or my family. For something more. You should go sleep. Try, at least. For me, Paladin, she hummed through their connection. Rest well, then, in the morning, make me proud. Be the best envoy you can, with all the charisma of a mighty prince.

Lance smiled fondly at Blue's proud advice. Yawning, he stood. "I think I'll do just that." As he walked towards the door, farewell-ing and caressing each lion as he went, Lance couldn't help but be excited. Though he was often pointed out for his falsified nescience, diplomacy was the one thing he excelled at. And Lance was going to show everyone he had merit to himself. That he wasn't just a placeholder. That he had value. But maybe, just maybe, he was also reassuring his own self-doubts and uncertainties that colored his mind in ashy fog and current animosity and juniper resentment.

 **[1] Luciana, what is Lance doing up this late. Mama will have your head, you know.**

 **[2] The stars in the sky**  
 **Have a story to tell**  
 **If only you'd listen**

 **Fun fact: the 'song' Lance sings is actually a poem I wrote for this fanfiction specifically, then translated to Spanish. It's called Stars in English and Estrellas in Spanish.**


	2. The Stars We Both Saw

The morning found Lance surprisingly bright and awake. Not only was he so excited for the day to come that he practically oozed happiness, but, despite his lack of sleep (he couldn't slept for more than an hour after he left the hangar), his skin and eyes and hair all seemed to glow in exuberance. The minute he made it into the kitchen with all the others, a pile of clothes were shoved into his arms and he was spun and pushed back out the door. Lance smiled. He had almost forgot that Allura said that she spent yesterday hunting for nice clothes to make them "more presentable" to the Holdsugár [1]. He got the feeling Allura had each of the Paladin's clothes color-coded.

Slipping into the (thankfully empty) bathroom nearby, he finally stopped to take a look at the attire he was being forced into. And he was glad he did - the formal wear was even more beautiful than what he had expected. Though he should have known, the dresses Allura always were some of the most amazing things he had ever seen. Now, staring at the clothes laid out before him, Lance couldn't help think they were fit for a prince. Which he was not.

But nonetheless, he donned the regalia. The outfit was comprised of onyx-toned slacks that streamlined along Lance's long legs, they weren't exactly tight, but not the same looseness like back on Earth. A form-fitting sable shirt of the same flexible material sat comfortably against his chest. However, most of it was covered by the intricate and elegantly embroidered vest. It seemed to be similar to a Victorian era tailcoat, except for the fact that it did not go much farther than mid-thigh and clung to the contours of Lance's body; adding even more to the streamlined effect. It was a cleanly cut jacket, done in the same shade of admiral blue as his Paladin suit for the most part, but the strip of pearl white down center of his chest was a good eight inches, skillfully partitioning the colors. Paler, more cerulean, shade coated his wrists and forearms in the form of gloves of a sort. They came to a triangular point along the back of his hands, the sharp cusp resting just below the knuckle of his middle finger. Finally, the whole outfit had been completed by the regal cloak that hung off his shoulders and halted near his calves, a golden button fastening the mantle at the base of Lance's neck. The cloak and vest were both hemmed in gold.

Giving himself one final glance, and thinking that he really did look like a prince, Lance returned to his team in the kitchen. All his friends were dressed in the same attire as him, only in their respective colors. Of course. But then again, what else did he expect? Even Coran was wearing something similar, only with a tie. Man, am I glad I don't have to wear a tie, Lance mused internally, I really hate ties. Allura, as one would expect, was wearing a dress fit for a queen, which she technically was. It was a high-necked, tiered dress that fell across her body nicely and tumbled out onto the floor. Her porcelain white hair was curlier than usual, and done up in a fancy ponytail, a crown of small, frosted red roses adorned her head. Lance couldn't help but think that Allura was really pretty in the lavender dress.

That was another thing. Though he had no clue just when it had happened, Lance had stopped thinking of the Altean princess as another girl to woo, but rather a person he could look up to. An older-sister kind of figure. He decided he like it better that way. This feeling was even more encouraged by the twinge of amusement Lance got as he watch Allura convince Keith to let her to pull up his hair into a sleek bun that rested on the center of the top of his head. Keith doesn't look half bad. He's actually pretty cute when he's not yelling, Lance thought to himself, though he'd never say it out loud. That would practically be a death wish upon himself, and, despite what others thought and the show he put up, Lance was notan idiot. After all, there were things better left unsaid.

The minute the castle landed and they wandered out into the sunlight that sent a warm honey glow over the land, Lance was homesick. Sure the coloring was a little off, but Hîverona [2] reminded him of Earth despite that. Ebony willows with leaves like periwinkle gems relaxed in their confined stations, lined up all throughout the grove. The leaves shifted and a rustling like music filled the sough, the cool breeze bringing the fragrance of geranium and lavender with it. A young servant girl, who couldn't have been older than 14 -in human years, anyway, who knew how they did it here?- drifted towards them gracefully.

Lance was in awe.

Allura had told them the Holdsugár were a beautiful race, and she hadn't been lying. No, Allura hadn't lied, just didn't say how gorgeous and delicate they were. Even this one girl, who was young and a servant, held an ineffable beauty. The Holdsugár were luminescent creatures. It wasn't the same bioluminescence that some aquatic creatures that lived deep in the oceans of Earth, but instead it was as if of their skin cells had it's own sun living inside of it. And the skin colors! They glowed in shades of lilac purple and blush pink and artic blue and mint tea green. Honestly, in complete and utter truth, Lance was becoming more and more astonished as the seconds passed.

While he had been taking in the radiant people of Hîverona, he hadn't realised they had finished the short, five-minute walk towards the castle. And now stopping next to his friends, Lance was once again overwhelmed by the astounding artistry of the whole place. He knew he was staring, but how could he not? The large castle in front of him was stunning, absolutely magnificent. The walls of the palace was a mixture of gilded silver and a substance that looked like a cross between glass and a diamond-like crystal. The windows were done up in stained glass, depicting scenes that made no sense to Lance, but were beautiful all the same.

But something else was even more heart-stopping impressive. The people that stood before him were the most breathtaking in the whole universe - hell the whole multiverse!

Lance could tell it was the royal family even before the man -the king- smiled and introduced himself, "It is an honor to finally meet you, Voltron, Defenders of the Universe. Your stories are well known here. I am King Bodhi and this is my Queen-" he motioned to the lovely woman beside him "-my beloved bride, Farah. These are our children, though I do believe they can introduce themselves." There was a twinkle of mirth in Bodhi's eyes that reminded Lance of his own father. He took a moment to take in the enchanting people before him.

They definitely fit the "human-like" category, the only differences beside the glowing skin and freckles was the chatoyant eyes and elfish ears. They really were easy on the eyes. The King and Queen, as well as the Princess, all had softly glowing skin that shimmered the same shade as the early morning sky, topped with a smattering of violet freckles, and pulsating caramel eyes, the same carob hair. The Princess and Prince were -if Lance had to guess- fraternal twins. Yes, the Princess was simply angelic, the pinnacle of femininity, but it was the Prince that really caught Lance's eye.

Compared to him, the rest of the royal family was plain, no matter how pretty they were, there was just something about the prince that set Lance's veins on fire. And it was a completely justifiable notion, too. The Prince's skin was a different shade than his sister or parents. It was a soft, glowing lavender that was peppered with pinpricks of amethyst, matching his demure demeanor. And his eyes! The berry orbs glimmered with ebullience, despite his obvious shyness. While his father's hair was cut short and orderly, his plum locks were collected in a small ponytail at the nape of his neck, though a few wine-toned strands had fallen out and now floated around his face. He was dressed in dark leggings, a loose tunic and a leather belt and boots, all in varying shades of green, from sage to forest. His sister, dressed in the same hues, was donned in a fluttering tea length dress, the upper part near her chest studded in what seemed to be tiny emeralds.

The Princess stepped forward, curtsying, "Hullo," there was a slight accent that reminded the Blue Paladin of someone of Germanic descent, "I am Princess Priyaa [3] and this is my twin brother, Arien [4]." Ah, so Lance was right. They were twins. "We welcome you our home and wish for you to stay with for the week, the duration of festivities, before we start negotiations. If you please."

With one glance at Allura -and a nod in return- Lance was the first to react. He swept forward, acting on instinct and what felt right. Bowing before the Princess, he gently took her hand in his, and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, and, her hand still in his, smiled up at her, "We would most honored, Your Majesty." He stood once more and turned to the gorgeous Prince, Arien. Bowing once again, this time towards the Prince, Lance turned his face away from his friends slightly so they couldn't see, and gave a small and warm smile, followed by a cheerful wink. Straightening out and returning to his friends, Lance couldn't help but feel proud of the lilac blush that dusted Prince Arien's -and Princess Priyaa's- cheeks. However, what he did not find amusing -really it was actually rather intimidating- was the stares from his friends that he could feel burning into his neck.

But he caught the secret smile Allura sent him, and he felt proud once again. The Altean Princess stepped forward, dropping into her own short, smooth curtsy, "My Paladin is correct, we would most definitely be honored by such a kind proposal, King Bodhi. But first I must introduce my companions and myself. I am Princess Allura, of the fallen Altea and this is my advisor, Coran." The tow-headed girl motioned towards a grinning Coran. Lance leaned down to whisper in Pidge's ear.

"So, basically, Space Mom and Weird Space Uncle Coran," he grinned. Pidge elbowed him, but Lance could see they were biting their lip to keep from bursting out laughing.

Allura continued to speak, either oblivious or ignoring the shaking shoulders and shit-eating grins from the two Paladins at the end, "This is Shiro, he's the Black Paladin, the head of Voltron-"

"Space Dad," Lance murmured to Pidge again.

"Oh my God! Stop it!" Pidge groaned under their breath, shoulders shaking even harder, fighting not to break out cackling. However, this time they did not go unnoticed. Prince Arien caught them and raised an eyebrow, looking like he was suppressing a smile, his indigo jewels for eyes sparkling. Lance sent him another wink on the sly, watching as the violet flush shoot across Arien's cheeks and nose, before he and Pidge swallowed their laughter and acted as though nothing had happened. Allura proceeded forth in her introductions.

"-Keith, the Red Paladin-" he looked politely bored, "-Hunk, the Yellow Paladin-" he was still taking in everything, "-Pidge, the Green Paladin-" they weren't even paying attention, "and finally, Lance, the Blue Paladin." He grinned and gave another slight bow.

King Bodhi grinned, clapping his hands together, "Very well. Shall we enter." He swung his arm wide, arcing towards the shimmering, opulent castle where it sat just beyond the large silver gate. If he looked past the large castle, Lance could see an offing. He could see the shore, the sapphire waves throwing themselves about without a care in the world. He could see the eggshell white seafoam tossing into the air; he could practically smell the brisk, salty wind that always seem to blow across beaches. He missed the ocean. Right now, more than ever before, Lance missed his family. And as the royal family of the Holdsugár led them into the castle and even further, towards the banquet halls, the thought came to Lance. It wasn't just Earth he missed. It was also the home he never had, the one he told Blue he missed, even though he didn't remember it. And he knew why he missed it, too. It, wherever it was, also had a beach he missed.

 **Varadero Beach, Cuba.**  
 **Saturday, April 8.**  
 **24:07 Military Time**  
 **12:07 AM Standard Time**  
 **McClain-Sanchez Household**

"Do you think Lance is also looking up at the stars right now, Val?" Carlos McClain-Sanchez asked his twin sister somberly.

"Who knows, Carlos? Who knows if Lance is even still alive? All the Garrison would tell Mamá is that he "went missing in action during a lockdown" or something like that," Valentina said dolefully. She was sad and a little bit angry that no one knew what had happened to Lance. Or his crew, for that matter. "Who's to say Lance isn't dead right now? He could be dead and no one would know." She bit her lip, refusing to cry. Her parents had not had a funeral for Lance yet, they did not believe he was dead yet, so she decided she would not mourn yet. But the worst part wasn't that nobody knew Lance's whereabouts or status, but rather, that he had missed Carlos and Valentina's 14th birthday. The only Lance had swore he would be there for, even if he had to fight through Heaven and Hell to do so. They only hoped he would be back in time for their Quinceanera. Because they knew the only way he wouldn't be there was if he was dead.

"He's not dead," Carlos assured both himself and his sister as they stared up at the stars. Mamá would kill them if she knew they were on the roof this late.

"How do you know?" Valentina asked, not snarky or degrading, but curious. Like she believed her twin but wanted to know how he knew. Because she did believe her brother.

"He's out there, Val. Up in the stars. Flying through them like there's no tomorrow. Maybe because there might not be. I'm not sure. I don't know how I know, I just do." He propped his arms behind head, eyes tracing constellations.

Valentina copied his position and began to mentally count and name all the stellar configurations Lance had taught her, "Yeah, me too. Me too."

We'll be waiting for you when you come back, Lance. We'll always wait. And for a moment, under the stars, they pretended that Lance could hear them. Maybe he could.

 **[1] Hungarian for "Moonlight". This is referencing their (the alien race's) skin which glows. Though I used the Sun to describe how they glow, I feel the need to mention that the glow is soft and calming like the moon.**

 **[2] Kurdish for "Moonlight". This again references the inhabitants, but also other aspects (such as the flora and fauna of the planet) that will be brought up and explained in better detail.**

 **[3] The original name was supposed to be "Priya" but there was a typo, which I decided was cool and a more unique spelling. The name "Priya" means "beloved" and is a common name in India and Nepal, but is more unique here in the west. You pronounce it as such: pre-ya. Fun Fact: She (Priyaa) did not have a name before I was looking for the names for the King and Queen, and this name was considered for the Queen.**

 **[4] Arien is pronounced as: ar-ee-in. The name means "most pure". It is actually used as a girl name in most places around the world, but I decided it was a cool and unique name and because they're aliens, I decided to ignore the gendering of the name, as I originally planned for his name to be "Adrienne", because I have an aunt with that name and I think it's really pretty. However, I was looking for unique names that wouldn't be very common (because they're aliens) and stumbled across this name. I liked it and decided to discard "Adrienne" for "Arien".**


	3. The Trees That Sing Us To Sleep

The banquet hall was large, very much so. Just walking into the room, Lance suddenly felt very small. "It's so big," he murmured under his breath, turning in a slow circle, taking everything in. It was impressive, glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling at least 20 feet above them, tables filled with food buffet-style, murals covering the walls of the circular room, and the dance floor was large, taking up most of the leftover room, minus the stage for the classical band. Of course. Lance had expected just as much, too. And he loved it. He really, really loved it. There was something that had constantly pulled him to watch princess and fantasy movies with his younger siblings. Because part of him yearned to live that kind of life. And here he was, standing in what was practically a ballroom, he'd be staying in a castle for at least a week, and thinking that this was absolutely crazy. Because he was so excited for something he thought he'd outgrown years ago. But most of all? Most of all, he thought it was exciting and… familar for some reason.

There was a toast and both Allura and King Bodhi said something, and then music began to play and people began to dance and Lance just stood there. Doing nothing. He felt incredibly stupid, so he moved heading towards one of the food tables, where he could see Keith, who also looked uncomfortable. Lance may not get along with Keith very often, but even trading insults would be better thank awkwardly standing there like a lost dog. Well, at least to Lance, it would be better. However, when he was halfway across the he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he smiled at Princess Priyaa. He swept himself into a graceful bow and smiled up at her again. "Anything I can do for you, your Highness?" he asked as he righted himself.

Priyaa smiled at him, "Please, call me Priyaa. There is no need to be so formal. Besides, I like being more casual. Would you care to dance?" Lance chuckled in response as he spun her out into the crowds of dancing aliens, immensely thankful for the dance lessons he had been forced into as a child. As they spun and waltzed through the throngs of people, Lance took a moment to truly take her in.

The tea length dress, with it's jewel neckline, seemed to be made from layers of chiffon, lace, and satin, billowing and fluttering as they danced. So Lance knows a lot about clothing, but growing up with at least four women, could you really blame him? Priyaa laughed, her whole face lighting up, as Lance picked her up and twirled him above her head. As she, and the rest of the ladies that had previously whirled through the air, came back down to the ground, Lance couldn't help but reevaluate his previous statement. She was beautiful.

Her deep set whiskey eyes sparkled, tawny brown flecked with amber. Her trim, arching eyebrows. Her smooth, delicate skin that glowed with luminescence. Her heart-shaped face and sloping cheekbones. Her button nose. Her rosebud lips. Her long, bouncing hair, glossy and smooth. Her petite, lissome figure. Everything. All of it. Everything collided so smoothly and perfectly. She truly was eesome. And yet…. And yet, he still couldn't find her quite as attractive as her twin. Lance sighed and shot a quick glance to where the Holdsugár Prince sat, looking bored out of his mind, as the dance ended. They silently moved back to the outskirts of the entrancing dancers.

"You should ask him to dance," Priyaa broke the comfortable silence. She gave Lance a small smile, and he could guess by the way her eyes glimmered that it meant something he didn't understand. But then it dawned on him and he did understand. Outwardly, he raised an eyebrow and carefully crafted his face into delicate confusion. Internally, though, it was all alarm bells and screaming. "Who?"

The Princess arched a brow and gave him an unimpressed look, most likely for his false nonchalance. "I'm not idiot. I can see very clearly and you're not as sneaky with those glances as you think. Go ask my brother to dance; the last one of the night is coming up."

Crimson erupted across Lance's face and he groaned. "No," he looked up at Priyaa then hid his face in his hands, "I'm not that obvious, am I?"

Priyaa chuckled again, "No, you're not that bad." She paused and Lance felt relief flood his veins. But then she smirked, "I doubt a child could figure out, but after that…." She trailed off, leaving the Blue Paladin to bemoan his lamentations. She gave a genuine, dazzling smile and gently pushed his shoulder towards Arien. "Go," she said emphatically, rolling her eyes.

With all final protests dying in the back of his throat, Lance turned to walk towards those incredibly captivating eyes, the same shade as sodalite [1]. The closer he drew, the more Lance began to realize how brightly flushed his cheeks were, the rapid, unsteady beat of his heart, the warmth gathering in his chest. It was a selcouth feeling, a strange, unexplainable, feeling. But he liked it. By the time he reached the Prince, he was sure his face was on fire. Clearing his throat, he finally stood in front of the beautiful boy, whose attention was solely on Lance. Well, that makes things easier, Lance thought sarcastically as he trained his eyes on his shoes. "I… Um… I mean-" his voice cracked, and Lance winced, clearing it again. "What I mean to say, Your Highness, is would you allow me to steal the final dance of the night from you?"

Despite knowing how flushed he probably was, Lance look up towards the Prince again to see that Arien was just as cherry-faced as him. It made it a little easier on the defender of the universe, but also a thousand times more painful because it was insanely adorable. The worst thing, Lance decided, was the fact that the lilac-skinned boy smiled at him. Prince Arien nodded excitedly, "Yes! Uh, I mean I would love to."

"T-thank you, Your Highness," Lance managed to mumble out. He swung them out onto the dance floor and the two began to sway and smoothly go through the dance steps, relaxing to the mellifluous music and, somehow, Lance's blush faded and allowed them to enter a serene world as though they were alone.

Almost all the tension had disappeared and the two entered a comfortable silence, though it didn't last long. "Your name is Lance, right?" Prince Arien asked as Lance, being a few inches taller, swung him past other dancing couples. At Lance's nod, he continued, "Well, you can call me Arien. If you want." There was a small nervous smile in place on the Prince's lips, and Lance lit up like a match again, grinning. But all too soon, the dance ended and they pulled apart.

Lance smiled at the periwinkle boy before him and, as he slowly turned to return to his friends, winked once more. He was rewarded with a warm heather flush that overtook Arien's face. Even though he knew he that he was still crimson red himself, Lance made his way to his friends.

Keith was the first to notice how much he was glowing. "You're red," he stated, as though it wasn't obvious (which it was). Lance rolled his eyes, "Yes, Keith. That's what normally happens when you talk to someone beautiful."

Shiro, who had appeared in all his Space Dad glory, raised an eyebrow. Lance smirked, "I danced with royalty tonight. Jealous?" Shiro just shook his head, chuckling under his breath. He opened his mouth, as if to say something but was interrupted by the same servant girl as before.

She gave a short bow, her agate blue eyes glimmering warmly. "I am here to show you to your rooms, per the request of Her Majesty, Princess Priyaa," she spoke softly with a slight accent. He could finally see the name tag pinned to her chest: YVETTE [2]. What entranced Lance's attention most was the utmost regard and fondness that she uttered when she talked of the Princess. As she turned to lead them to each of their respective rooms, Lance fell to the back of the group, heeding no attention to the anecdoche that filled the air around him.

And then suddenly, as he gazed out at the stars and realized he none of them, that crushing sense of lacuna flooded over him and he was all too grateful to enter the room prepared for him. Collapsing onto the bed, it took him a minute to realize he was laughing, but once again, he had no clue why. But it didn't matter, he decided, nothing mattered. Because he felt truly happy for the first time in a long while. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Lance had been forced to flee the castle, tired from the preparations. His 16th birthday wasn't even until two more days, and yet the entire staff was scrambling about the fortress like there was one a quisdant [2] left. So he fled to the orchid. It was his favorite, just as Allura loved the flower fields just over the hill. Hidden in the branches and swathed in the amaranthine leaves, he felt peaceful. Like he could pretend he wasn't a prince who wouldn't have to marry a princess, who didn't have to go to boring etiquette lessons he had mastered years ago, who didn't sit through boring lectures on quintessence and the theory of quintessence manipulation, who didn't read so many books as to be able to describe trees as **amaranthine** , because for God's sake, it was red-purple! But eventually, inevitably, he would have to return to the castle, have to become Lance Karaliene, Prince of Altea, the greatest quintessence manipulator in the past century.

Lance wrinkled his nose at the thought of returning. Sighing, he made to remove himself from the strong-branched tree. He was only half-way up the 50 foot tall tree, but if a servant caught him, he knew he'd have hell to pay. However, his descent was halted when he heard his name being called, "Lance!" Glancing down, the Altean Prince wasn't that surprised to see Kyan [3] smiling up at him. The thin and nimble boy had made his way up to Lance in a matter of seconds. Kyan was the only one who held no qualms against regarding Lance informally, except maybe the Paladins, and not-so-secretly, he loved it. He couldn't help hold back the grin that unfurled across his face as he regarded the boy who did everything with enthusiasm and meraki.

"Hey, Ky! You're not here to force my back to the castle, are you?" Lance asked his best friend cheerfully, despite the sadness - and eleutheromania - that had firmly lodged itself in his chest and refused to leave, only deflating slightly whenever he was around Kyan.

Ky laughed, shaking his head and leaning forward in excitement, the tree limb he was perched on swaying, but ultimately staying steady. He reached forward and grabbed Lance's arms in a vice-like grip, but the Prince couldn't find it in himself to tell his friend to loosen the hold or shake his hands off, not when Ky's Nordic blue eyes shone with so much joy. His bright baby-blues had such a sharp contrast with his deep bronze skin, but the cinnabar splashes across his sandalwood cheeks made him a sight to see. "No, silly! Don't tell me you haven't heard!" the excitable boy beamed in a hushed voice.

Lance felt himself being drawn into whatever crazy schemes his friend came up with, already leaning forward; it was only the nagging voice in the back of his head that kept him from slipping off the sturdy branch. "No," he murmured breathlessly, completely entranced, "What's happening?"

Ky's eyes widened comically, as though his friend had said something entirely blasphemous. He began to speak, raising his voice over the psithurism, "How do you not know? The Jeweled Knights are coming to the city tonight!" Now it was Lance's turn to be bewildered and blindsided. Every time the Jeweled Knights came to a town, things got absolutely insane.

It wasn't that anything bad happened, most of the time anyway, but rather the fact the strange and beautiful dancers always through an illegal rave in an abandoned building, sector, or beach. What caused the thrill of excitement to run through Lance's spine, however, was the fact that he knew exactly what Ky was implying. **And Lance knew he would follow along no matter what.** They were going to see the Jeweled Knights live, and to do that, they'd have to sneak out of the castle before midnight.

Lance had never been more excited.

 **[1] Sodalite is a type of tectosilicate mineral widely used as an ornamental gemstone. It's really pretty and I suggest looking up some photos on Google.**

 **[2] "Yvette" is a French name meaning Yew or archer. I really liked it and thought it was really pretty, so I used it.**

 **[3] "Kyan" is a Persian name meaning "benevolent king" and an Arabic name meaning "soul essence". Originally it was a Nubian name spelled as "Kian" and meant "a long awaited" or "a celebrated" child. The name is usually pronounced like "Ryan" but because these are aliens were talking about (and because I like how it sounds better), in this it is pronounced as "key-on". It is a high ranking name in Iran and I really like it, because it's so unusual, which is why I used it.**


	4. It's Too Cold Outside For Angels To Fly

When Lance woke the next morning, he was missing home even more than anytime before. Only not home, like Earth home, but more like home. It unsettled him, but at the same time a deep melancholy had sunk into his bones, dragging him down. It was a feeling he was familiar with, but one he had not felt in a long time, and now that it was back, it was ten times stronger.

Of course, that was also the moment he realised it was roughly one in the morning.

"Holy quiznack! Will I never sleep again?" he bemoaned to the people who were not in the room. Or the real people any way. Seriously, he was talking to himself too much lately. Like way too much. And his cat, he also talked to Blue a bit too much to be considered normal. But then again, he flew through space in a giant castle shaped ship thingy, so who was to say normal even applied to him anymore?

But now he was awake, and he had woken up because of a dream. A dream he half remembered. Smiling slightly, he turned and rifled through the bag he had taken with him when they had landed. Pulling out the blue crystal, he settled down in a comfy chair in front of a warm fire, one which he had no memory of starting. He yawned and sank into the purple toned chair and began his "mission".

"I don't really know how to explain this properly, but I'll start anyway. My name is Lance McClain-Sanchez and I am 16 years old…"

An hour or so later and Lance had resorted to wandering the castle until he was told otherwise. Not surprisingly, he found himself walking towards Blue and the other lions. What did surprise him was that he was not alone. Sitting a good 5 feet in front of him was Keith, head laying on his knees, which were pulled to his chest, arms holding his legs in place, and his hair once again a loose mullet.

Keith glanced up at Lance as the boy made his way over and sat down next to the darker haired boy. "Hey. You're up early," Keith said softly, dipping his head further towards the ground and casting his eyes higher into the sky.

"I could say the same thing to you." Lance also maintained the quiet with his hushed tone drawing in on himself. He and Keith didn't always have to fight. In fact, I might like it better if we didn't, Lance thought to himself. He admired the impulsive boy. He admired him and was jealous of his rival at the same time, but how could he not bear jealousy to someone like Keith?

Keith had always been better, always one step ahead, always untouchable. He had always been better than Lance. From the stupid stunts he pulled that almost never failed back in the Garrison, to the classes that were more theories than hands on work, and it made Lance's blood boil. Because Keith was a daily reminder that Lance would never be good enough.

But now they sat in the peace and quiet together, and they didn't fight. They just sat there in tranquility. It wasn't cold out, but not quite warm either and the two sat close, leaning so their shoulders were almost touching. After what could have been a minute or an hour, Lance finally spoke. "What're you thinking about?" he asked in a breath, picking up wild flowers and weaving them into the braided flower crowns that his sisters always loved.

"Not much," the Red Paladin answered, "I just wonder what it's like back on Earth." He didn't say home. No, he said Earth, as though he didn't think of the planet as him home. Lance couldn't help but agree with him. "Are we dead? Are we missing? What do people there think?"

"Yeah," Lance echoed back. He really didn't want to think about that. He really didn't want to think about how his family would react to him being "dead". He didn't want to imagine the way his precious little dog would look when he didn't come back in the summer.

Honestly, he just didn't want to think about anything. He thanked his lucky stars when Keith started to talk again. "What about you, Lance? What are you thinking about?" Lance didn't even hesitate, the words just tumbled out of his mouth and poured across the sky. Words he hadn't said in years, and when he finished, he realized he probably sounded like an idiot.

"I can't really explain it, but it's like the color red."

Keith chuckled and gave him a sideways look, "The color red?"

The ears of the Blue Paladin gained a dusting of pink. "Well, yeah," he took a deep breath and forged on, he had said it and now there was no going back.

"The color red. Once, when I was younger, a teacher asked us to describe anything in whole world we could think of, but we had to say it like we were talking to someone who was blind. We couldn't use the name of the object, because it obviously wouldn't make sense. I chose a rose."

"And you still remember this?" Keith was smiling, though it wasn't like Lance could see.

"Of course. I got recognition for that assignment. The teacher wanted to publish it actually." He remembered the day like it was just yesterday, and he couldn't help the smile. He paused in caution for a moment before continuing, "My grandparents had a whole bunch of rosebushes and the red ones were always my older brother's favorite. So I wrote about them. I can still remember what I said." He sighed happily and felt relieved that he and his sworn rival were having a normal conversation, like normal people did.

"What did you say?" Keith asked, interested. The genuine curiosity on his face made Lance smile as he stood up, brushing dust off of him and extending a hand to the impulsive boy. "That's something for another time. Let's head in," he said warmly when Keith took his hand and he pulled him to his feet. He reached his other hand up and nestled the flower crown into Keith's mass of dark hair and walked away, a small, sad smile on as his face as he left his teammate to ponder his words.

When morning officially came, and everyone sat eating breakfast in a much smaller room than the previous night, it was quiet. Not the kind of quiet that was uncomfortable, but rather the calm kind that made you appreciate everything you've ever had, like the quiet of churches and flower gardens, of being the only one up after the whole world had gone to sleep. And no one at the table tried to change that, even Lance who often was the most vocal in the early hours of the day.

It was only when Yvette, the pretty servant girl from before, entered the room that everyone brought themselves back to the present. She bowed before them, her watermelon curls falling around her face. Standing up straight once again, she smiled brightly, "Her Majesty, the Queen Farah and His Majesty, King Bodhi, request that you attend the festival that will span the duration of the day and the coming days, as well." She gave one final bow and with that she disappeared back into the massive corridors. The Paladins watched her go, and as the strawberry girl dissolved into the halls, a thought struck Lance. However, it was quickly wiped from his mind as Allura ushered everyone out into the hall to prepare.

In a blur of color and shape and what might have only been several minutes, the Paladins and the Royal family stood out in open air, gazing over the large colorful festival. The field was full of tents of all shapes and sizes and willowy dancers meandered throughout the streets. Rowdy cheers and shouts of joy could be heard all across the moorland, music billowed from an unknown source. A gentle breeze blew in from somewhere in the distance. The King and Queen, and even Priyya, had wandered off, leaving Arien as a guide for the Paladins of Voltron.

The berry-eyed boy scuffed his foot into the rust-hued dust and softly pulled on a strand of loose hair. "Um, I'm not really sure about what you guys think, but the circus over there is pretty fun?" he said and pointed weakly over to a large tent. His words said as if the statement was a question. As though he were unsure of what to think about the suggestion.

Lance looked towards the shy boy and a dull, buzzy feeling filled his chest and shot through his veins. He decided that all he wanted was to see the Prince smile again, like he had the previous night. And he'd start by making sure his friends and himself took the suggestion. Puffing his chest out, Lance grinned and began moving forward, "Yeah! That sounds like a good place to start, don't you think?" Pidge sent him a look that let him know that he was being overly obvious. Well, they tried to, but the Blue Paladin was already dragging everyone with him down the hill.

"Thanks for showing us, Arien!" he called back. "You should come with!" The words left little room for argument and with a small jump and a growing smile, Arien followed after the group. Lance grin only grew wider when he saw that some of the tension in the willowy Prince's shoulders was easing away.

The walk down the hill seemed longer with the constant interruption of the brightly colored street performers and the locals that walked up to greet and thank the Paladins. There was one little girl no older than 3 maybe, who walked straight up to Hunk and hugged him around the leg. This left the group with a 5 minute delay as she refused to let go until he promised to visit her anytime he was on Suinus.

But soon enough, the group finally made their into the colorful tent. The inside was debatably more colorful than the outside. Rose and periwinkle and lime orbs floated around the room. Literal orbs, glass balls of pastel light and warmth bobbed about the room, and if Lance didn't know better he would have swore he heard soft music drift out of the frosted glass but was swallowed up by the jovial laughter and rowdy cheers.

It was an incredibly large tent, and the floating lights (Lance had no better words to use) flashed a butter yellow. Then they proved Lance right, calling out an instruction for everyone to "please take a seat". So they did talk or sing or make some kind of noise. The Paladins and the Prince took their seats on the smooth wooden bench. The lights then flashed and stayed a low, pretty blue and tinted the magenta fabric a pretty purple. Lance took this chance to observe his friends.

Pidge was barely staying in their seat, bouncing with curiosity. Had it not been that Shiro sat next to them, Lance had no doubt that the Green Paladin would have grabbed one of the orbs and started tinkering with it, figuring out how it worked and how to replicate it. Hell, Lance got the feeling that Pidge still might.

Turning his head slightly, he gazed at Shiro and Allura. They were talking and whispering happily, reminding the Blue Paladin of his mother and father back on Earth. Come to think of it, Allura and Shiro really were his mom and dad. At least, in space that was. Hunk sat on the other side of Pidge, near the isle, and had been roped into a conversation about the floaty thingys.

To Lance's right was Allura, who paused in her conversation with Space Dad himself to toss Lance a sisterly smile before she returned to their pleasant chat. To his left sat Keith. Lance was surprised when he noticed that Keith still had the purpley-pink flower crown on his head, hair tucked around it. The thought made Lance blush - but only a little! - and he couldn't help the warm glow that filled his chest.

And then, there was Arien. He sat on Keith's opposite side, on the isle like Hunk, talking to the elderly woman across the gap, a small and genuine smile spread over his lips. He understood that now wasn't the best time, but Lance nonetheless forced himself to ask the question that hovered in the back of his mind: Just what did he feel for the Prince?

Well, that was a heavy question, wasn't it? And yet, Lance had the answer. Mostly. He wanted to be with Arien. Not even romantically, friendship would be just fine for the Cuban. Hell, a platonic relationship would probably be best anyway, what with Lance running off to save the universe from Zarkon every other day. But it wasn't just that. Buried in Lance's chest was a fluttering emotion, a soaring need. He needed to make Arien happy. To make the Prince feel special, loved. But it just wasn't romance. It was like a crush, except that instead of someone Lance would like it date, it was someone he'd loved to befriend. However, he was shaken from his thoughts by a voice.

It belonged to a titan of a woman who stood on stage. And when Lance said she was huge, he meant she was huge. She was at least seven feet tall - if not more. Well-endowed, and with a tight hourglass body, she was definitely curvy, to say the least. Outside of her crazy height, she was still stunning. Waves of what looked like emerald leaves waterfalled down her back, and her skin was the same red-tinged brown as pecan wood.

No, it wasn't just that. It was like she was made of wood. Her skin looked textured and rough, like bark, and her eyes were rich soil. Shamrock green and interwoven out of what could have fooled Lance to be hemp, her dress reminded him of an Indian sari. Then Lance noticed that for some terrifying reason, she had decided to wear a pair of wooden clogs, except that they had six-inch heels on them.

"My name is Ambrose, and I will be your host for tonight." She had a curious accent, one that put a little more emphasis on the "n" in "tonight" and snapped the "m" of the word "name" so it sounded more like "ma". And then there was the way she said her own name, her accent pulling and flicking out the "s", so it echoed back more like "za", but it was still subtle enough to make Lance aware that there wasn't an "a" at the end of her name.

Refocusing on the event, Lance sat up a little straighter. Ambrose delicately swung an arm in front of her, and as the music swelled with what reminded the Paladins of flutes, the first wave of performers. Now, Lance could be an idiot at times, but he was not so stupid as to mistake what where very obviously alien clowns. Here's the kicker, though: Lance despises clowns.

He hates them with the same burning passion he has for seeing or hearing of his family in danger. Because to Lance, clowns equalled danger. Call him irrational, whatever. Lance McClain-Sanchez hates clowns - alien or not - about as much as he loves Hunk's cooking, which is to say, very much so. He hadn't even realized it at first, but Lance had attached himself to Keith's arm. Even when he did notice, he didn't let go. That would just not be happening. Nuh-uh, Keith's arm was his to hold onto like a lifeline until all the alien clowns had left.

"Lance?" Keith turned to look at the boy hanging off his arm. "What are you… Oh." he trailed off when he saw what Lance was gaping at in comical, abject horror. Lance didn't even spare him a glance, and Keith found himself chuckling under his breath and adjusted so it would be more comfortable for the both of him. Lance moved from his arm to grip Keith's right hand and entwined their fingers, his own right hand reaching across his body to fiddle and rub his thumb against the cuff of Keith's sleeve [1]. The Red Paladin just let it slide and they stayed like that until Lance had calmed - which ended up not being until the whole show finished, not just the wave of alien clowns, or whatever they were.

After the show finally finished, Lance stood and stretched, popping his joints and the cracking of his bones made Allura cringe slightly. As he did so, Lance shot Keith a covert look that spoke volumes. They would never, ever speak of this. Ever. Keith nodded marginally, but Lance got his affirmation, so it was good enough. "That was amazing!" Lance whooped as the walked back into the sunlight, pumping his fist and all falsified bravado. But they didn't need to know that, of course.

There was a tap on his shoulder and Lance turned to face Arien. "Hey, Lance?" the shy Prince gazed down at his feet. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

" 'Course," the Paladin replied, before shouting over his shoulder. "Hey, guys! Give us a second, Arien wants to talk!" A nod from Shiro - really, he's such a dad - and the two waited until they were out of earshot. Lance grinned and gave his full attention to the Prince of an alien race. You'd think the novelty would wear off, but it never did for Lance. Just the fact that aliens even existed was thrilling to the brunette.

"So, what's up?" Lance asked rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet. Arien took a moment to seemingly gather what he wanted to say.

He worried his lip between his teeth for a moment before he let out a heavy breath. "I'm not really sure how to say this," he started slowly, "but I really like you, Lance." He surged forward before Lance could finish processing what the brightly -skinned boy had said. Once that had finished, he slowly began to register the fact that Arien was pressing his lips to Lance's. They were kissing.

They were kissing.

It wasn't some special moment. There were no fireworks, no sparks, no ah-ha moment. Just Arien's dry, chapped lips pressed against Lance's, mouths closed and tight lipped. It felt wrong. It wasn't that he was kissing another guy that was wrong, it was who he was kissing that was wrong.

It wasn't how Lance had imagined his first kiss at all. This… This was awkward and uncomfortable and just wrong. It wasn't Arien's fault, it was just the fact that Arien wasn't who Lance thought would be his first kiss, wanted to be his first kiss.

Arien pulled away and turned fuschia. "I… I think I should g-go now," he stammered out and then ran off. Lance was shell-shocked. He wanted to cry. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. So instead, he swallowed past the lump in his throat, plastered on a grin that wasn't quite genuine looking enough, and ran to catch up to his friends.

"Hey," he said as soon as he caught up the Allura and the other Paladins. Was it just him or was his voice cracking? Probably just him. Right?

Shiro tossed him a brief glance, before asking "Where's the Prince?" Lance shrugged and began to scratch at one concentrated spot on the back of his hand with his nail until his skin turned red and tender there. Logically, he knew that if he kept it up, he would break the skin and risk the possibility of scarring. It had happened before. However, Lance was not thinking logically right now and the bad habit had been something he'd dealt with for a long time now.

"Dunno," he said with a shrug. "Said he had something to do and that he was leaving. I guess this means we're on our own?" Shiro nodded with a sigh, a silent I suppose so, and they continued walking around. It was getting late - and dark, so the Blue Paladin supposed they were going on the Ferris Wheel like attraction that Shiro was leading them too, and that that'd be the final thing for the night.

A warm hand enclosed his and pulled apart his hands, as though to keep him from scratching. Lance looked up; he had somehow trailed behind until he stood next to Keith at the back of the group. It had been Keith who had pried apart his hands and stopped their self-destructive movements.

"Stop," Keith whispered, keeping his words between just the two of them. "You'll hurt yourself." Obviously Lance knew that, he just didn't care right now. It anchored him, and if he didn't have that, the you could bet he would break down in tears and have a panic attack in a heartbeat. Keith rolled his eyes at the look Lance was giving him. He pulled a hair tie off of his wrist - God knows why he had it there - and secured it around Lance's own wrist. He then began twisting it so it slid in a circle. "Do that," he advised, before adding on, "You can also snap it. It's less harm on your body [2] and it does the same grounding thing."

Lance looked down and began to spin it himself. In doing so, he accidentally bumped his shoulder into the Red Paladin's; neither cared. "Okay," he whispered quietly, almost to himself. Keith's small but somehow special smile made it worth it.

The group made it to the Ferris Wheel, or whatever it was, and were paired off for the ride; Lance and Keith got stuck together. The first three minutes of the long ride were blissful - quiet and calm, no fighting, and the two opposites enjoyed one another's company in warm silence that wasn't awkward at all, oddly enough. However, as the fourth minute rolled around, they grinded to a stop. It took them three, four, seven second to realise what had happened. The Wheel had stopped working.

Lance cast a glimpse towards his red-clothed companion, and saw it. He had a good enough read on people, and he knew that look from personal experience. Keith was terrified, specifically of the fact that they were tens of feet - if not more - off the ground, and were swinging in mid-air. Lance decided he would help his rival - why though, he had no clue.

"Isn't it so pretty, Keith?" Lance asked with a small sigh, his neck craned back.

"Huh?" He smiled when Keith spun to him, no longer glaring in fear at the ground.

"The sky," Lance reiterated, nodding his head up and gazing at the stars and constellations he had never known, and would probably never get to. Lance turned to face Keith more clearly, but looked out to the night sky past Keith's shoulder. He chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of neck, but explained himself nonetheless. "I mean, look at all these stars. There are a ton of them, plenty of them are probably named, but we know nothing about them. It's beautiful, because it's our first time seeing these constellations and it's our precious moment." Lance knew he was rambling but that didn't stop him. Keith had a small, slightly dazed, smile on his face. It was like he saw and got to keep something beautiful that no-one else would ever get to see. It urged Lance on, to see his rival-turned-friend like this. "No one is ever going to see this like we are. Not exactly anyway. No one else can have this perfect moment, the perfect spot and time, no one else will see this the same way we do. And if that's not beautiful, then I don't know what is. Can't you see, Keith? This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and we just got front row tickets! Everything is just so -"

With a sharp intake of air, Keith cut Lance off by throwing himself forward, into Lance, and smashing their mouths together. This… this kiss was right. In seemingly every way possible, it was right. The way Keith's warm, soft lips molded against Lance's was just perfect. The way that the Red Paladin had Lance's shirt fisted in his hand was practically normal. The spark was there this time, the fireworks from cheesy Disney films, all of it. Perfect.

Lance let his eyes drift closed, let his arms wrap around Keith's torso. He let himself be flooded in Keith's scent, warmth and vanilla, coolness and lavender. It was all opposites but it didn't so much as clash as it did blend perfectly, intoxicating Lance. He moved one hand as to cup Keith's neck and jawline, near the pulse point. The kisses were hungry, devouring, but warm and comforting all at the same time.

Keith had his arms around Lance's neck and was practically sitting on his lap. Both were too wrapped up in each other to care that a chilling breeze had picked up, the heat between them capturing all their attention. So Lance sucked on Keith's bottom lip and ran his hands through the Red Paladin's hair, and Keith barely managed to stop from groaning out Lance's name and kissed his blue-eyed boy back just as hard. Had this been a sappy movie, the camera would have panned away and the credits would have rolled, and it would be happily ever after. But this wasn't a movie, so they kept on kissing until it dwindled into kissing less out of need, but more just because they could. They kept on kissing until the Ferris Wheel started movie again, and then they kissed some more, but - somehow - remembered to recollect themselves. They held hands at the back of the group, grinning like mad and unable to keep their eyes off each other, but no one but them even noticed. No one noticed when Lance snuck into Keith's room that night, either. No one knew that they both slept better than before when they cradled each other in their arms.

No one knew that they had fallen, would fall, and were falling in love. But that didn't really matter, anyways.

 **[1] When I was at camp back in July, I got a ton of anxiety attacks. My friend let me hold their hand and fiddle with their jacket sleeve during bonfire or whenever I needed, and it really helped me stay calm, so that's where this came from.**

 **[2] Once again, this came from camp, and just me in general. When my anxiety gets bad, I start to scratch apart my skin and actually have more than one scar from this. My camp friend would give me a hair tie and these instructions if they saw me scratching so that I wouldn't hurt myself. I wanted to portray that this is a much safer and better coping thing for me (and hopefully others, too) and that I suggest this over scratching.**


	5. Little Blue Boy, Up In The Clouds

**So this is like a poem? That I came up with for this fic. I don't know, but I think it fits pretty well. Also, it will hint/reveal things that will happen later on in the story. Please comment on your theories on what you think will happen, I'm really curious**

He's a blue boy  
No matter how hard he's trying  
He calls himself a failure  
Who's given up on flying

He's got his head in the clouds  
And he's begging you not to bring him down  
Even if it means he'll be giving up  
His title and his crown

He's cocky and he's loud  
He won't let you see him crying  
He's a joker and you'd never guess, a liar  
Because he doesn't want to let you know he's dying

He'd never tell you everything  
Or tell you just what your could do  
Secretly he's wishing that you could help  
But he'd never tell, so you never knew

You never expected it  
But the blue boy with his head in the sky  
And his heart drowning in the ocean  
Can stare you down and lie

If you saw it sooner, then maybe  
And now the blue little jokester is gone  
Call it the error of your ways because  
You don't know how to say you're wrong

He's left a trail in his wake  
Pretty crystals of blue  
He's begging you to follow and prove  
That you don't think he's a failure too

Little boy of blue's  
Given up on flying  
Even with his head in the clouds  
He's stuck on repeat and he's still lying


	6. Arrogant Boy,Love Yourself No One Has To

**I would also like to note that the songs for this chapter are "Missing You" and "Therapy" by All Time Low and "King" by Lauren Aquilina.**

The rest of the week passed quickly and before Lance knew it, they were back in the Castle and it lifted off. Lance gazed out from a window and watched the verdurous planet fade away. It was pretty early in the morning, but Lance could already tell that today wasn't going to be a good day for him. He was just glad that Allura had allowed them this day to rest and do whatever they felt like doing. Sighing, he pushed away and moved towards his room, thankfully uninterrupted. All he wanted to do was take a nice long nap.

Launching himself onto his bed, he made quick to swaddle himself in his blankets. He stared blankly at the boring, gray wall and let his mind wander (which was probably a stupid idea). He couldn't help but laugh at himself little; he felt just as gray as the walls. One wasn't too far from his bed either. Absentmindedly, he researched forward and brushed his fingers against the cool, argent walls. He shook slightly, but didn't move his hand; instead, he pushed his palm flat against the wall and held it, right up until it lost all its coldness.

When Lance finally pulled his hand back and gazed at it, he realized it was stiff and somewhat numb. Not the numb where if he waited a few minutes pins and needles would start invading his hand, making it painful to move. No, this was just an empty feeling that filled his palm and the pads of his fingers.

It wasn't uncomfortable, and it faded back to warmth soon enough, but it did leave Lance wondering what that would be like if it was his whole body, not just a hand. Drawing his arm back into his chest, Lance sighed and cleared his mind. Those were not happy thoughts, and Mrs. Cordelia had always told him that he should never listen to the unhappy thoughts in his head, especially when they weren't from him.

Instead, the pretty brunette had taught him something very simple. Instead, he was to talk to someone. But when he couldn't, or wouldn't, talk then what he had to do was think of something that made him happy. And colors? They made Lance happy, usually.

He liked to imagine the pretty shades that danced in his mind and behind closed eyes. He liked to roll words like atrous or smalt around on his tongue. Lance liked how titian was a pretty red-gold color that reminded him of Luci's favorite pair of earrings. Or how glaucous was the same sparkling shade as his mother's eyes and blueberries. And he just loved how Mrs. Cordelia's favorite sweater was a lovely kelly green. Honestly, if he was forced between being blind and being deaf, he'd chose deaf everyday if it meant he could keep seeing and loving the colors that made up his world.

But today, colors just weren't doing it. Lance couldn't help but keep feeling gray. Today, he wasn't modena like Keith, he wasn't jacinthe like Hunk, he wasn't able to be the same shade of chrysochlorous like Pidge always was. He was nowhere near as melanic as Shiro, and he could never be like Allura, all pretty mauve. But that was okay, because on most days he was blue, blue, blue. He was like the colors of the sea and the sky and his 8th grade yearbook. Just… not today. Today he was grey. He was slate, and pewter, and smoke, and graphite. He was pebble and lead and iron. He just was. Lance felt blank and empty and gray. And he had no clue what to do.

With a great, big huff of air, Lance threw off his blankets and stood. If colors, in all their bright glory couldn't help, then he would clean. That also helped, when colors weren't. So he cleaned. [1] He tidied his bed, all the way to perfect. You could drop a quarter and it would bounce at least six times over, if not more. He placed all his clothes in the right places, and he wiped down the walls, swept the floor. He scoured the bathroom near his room until it practically sparkled. But still, nothing was working.

The suffocating weight in his chest still pressed down, making it a bit harder to breathe. The elephant in his stomach rolled over and made him feel sick. Pulling on one of his earlobes and worrying his lip between teeth. He would talk to Hunk, he decided. He'd known Hunk forever, and Hunk knew him, everything about him. Hunk could help, Hunk would be good. With a deep breath that rushed out in a Whoosh! Lance headed out into the hall and down towards Hunk's room. However, his intentions were foiled by a tall, muscled roadblock by the name of Shiro.

Stumbling back slightly, Shiro reached out to help steady Lance, who could tell his eyes were dilated, and knew that this would not pass under the older man's radar. "Lance?" the Black Paladin asked softly. "Are you ok?"

"I- I- I-" Lance stopped and let out a strangled whine, somewhat angry with himself. Unable to use words, apparently, Lance just shook his head. Shiro frowned and lead him into the kitchen, which was thankfully empty. Lance sat down next to Shiro, who angled himself towards the blue-eyed boy.

"Hey," Shiro said softly, resting a hand on Lance's arm, near the shoulder. "Can you tell me what's wrong, Lance?"

"I- I- I- I- I- I n-" A high pitched whine made its way up Lance's throat and out his nose with a puff of air[2]. It hadn't been this hard for so long; he threw his hands, whined again, and twisted his face into a pained and upset look. A sharp breath pushed through his nose and Lance seemed to collapse into himself, yanking his hands through his hair.

His breaths were shallow and slightly panicking, and Shiro noticed this easily - thank God for Shiro. Really, he was a literal gift and blessing to this world. "Hey, hey, don't do that." He gently took Lance's hands from where he was abusing his hair, and made the Cuban boy look him in the eye. Once he was sure he had Lance's attention, he spoke again. "Breathe with me, okay? Can you do that for me?" He started to breathe slowly, in and out, at a slow, deep pace. Lance nodded, and tried to slow and deepen his breaths to match the Black Paladin's. It took a few minutes, but soon enough his breathing was a bit more normal.

"Are you good enough to tell me what's going on now?" Shiro asked lowly, trying to keep the usually excited boy calm.

Lance too a deep breath and tried to speak once more, "I- I-…." He trailed out. No, it was useless. Lance motioned vaguely, angered. He just couldn't do it today. But that wouldn't stop him, he had to get to Hunk. With one final attempt, he managed to usher out a single word, "H- h- h- Hunk…"

Shiro gave Lance a warm, calming smile and nodded. "Alright, buddy. You did you best, that's okay. Do you need me to get Hunk for you?" Lance shook his head. "Okay, that's fine. Do you want me to walk you to his room, then?" Lance paused, considering, before nodding. "Okay, let's get you to Hunk then." The older man stood with a small smile and offered his hand to Lance, who gladly took it.

When Shiro left the Blue Paladin outside Hunk's room, the first thing he did was throw it open. Somewhere in his mind he registered that Pidge was in the room too, didn't really notice that she left the room within seconds of him entering, but that wasn't a big deal to Lance. At least, not at the moment. Instead, he payed more attention to the fact that Hunk had turned the second he slammed the door. All it took was a single glance and Lance grabbing at his throat with one hand - a secret gesture they had made up years ago when they had first met - for the larger boy to understand. Quickly, he set down whatever he had been fiddling with and opened his arms, just in time as Lance tossed himself into his best friend's arms.

"Bad day, buddy?" Hunk asked softly. All Lance could do was nod into his friend's shoulder. He wrapped his arms tightly around Hunk's midsection, and his best friend of all time understood. Hunk rubbed a comforting hand up and down Lance's back, helping him to relax. [3] Lance didn't cry though, he felt like he might, for only a brief moment, but he didn't. A couple of minutes and Lance felt much better, not fully himself again - not yet - but better. He sighed and plopped himself down on Hunk's bed.

"Are we okay now?" he asked kindly. Lance just nodded, humming a response. "Okay, that's good. Do you want to stay here? Or do you want to go back to your own room?"

"Yeah, that one," Lance mumbled, completely drained. He stood and yawned, stretching. "I think I j-just need a nap. I- I- I should be okay after that." [4]

Hunk followed Lance to the door and patted him gently on the shoulder. "Alright, you do what you need. Just remember I'm here whenever, okay?"

"Yeah," Lance smiled. "I got it. See you later. Oh! I might not show up to dinner or anything. I'm just not very hungry right now." Lance began to head down to his room. Once there, he threw himself into the bed and swaddled himself in blankets, feeling suddenly and inexplicably cold. He settled down for a peaceful rest. It was, by no means, a peaceful and dreamless slumber like he had hoped it would be.

There was a small, secluded part of the palace hidden just behind the observatory that had quickly become one of Lance's favorite places to hide. Ever since he was rather young, he would rush off to hole himself up. He could stay there for hours, but now, he felt like he could stay here for decades, where he could see all the stars perfectly. Because from here, in his tiny corner of the palace, he could even see other planets. Often, he would imagine what people there were like. He would create people out of thin air and then he would give them lives and everything that came with life. It was like having friends from far off, even though they didn't exist.

But today, all he wanted was to hide away in his tiny corner of the universe and just admire the stars and constellations. Perhaps he should have heard the footsteps, but he found himself far too wrapped up in wondering just how far out people were. Lance had heard rumors of RedGH286, [5] but who was to say that the system even existed. Technology had not come that far, not even the most advanced of Altean devices. So no, he did not hear the familiar pitter-patter of his favorite Paladin, nor did the opening of the observatory door. Yet, he was strangely calm when his Uncle Xio sat down beside him, despite it seeming like the man had appeared out of thin air.

"So, seventeen now, huh?" The blue-eyed man said, with a low, quiet whistle. He nudged Lance, who grinned back at him.

"Yeah. You feel old yet?" the boy joked. He rolled his eyes halfheartedly, and returned his gaze back to the stars. "What's it like out there, Uncle? What do the stars look like when it feels like they are so close you could touch one?"

"Indeed, I do feel very old," Xio teased back. Sighing, he decided to tell his favorite Godchild just what was out there. "We found a place out there. They're calling it Terra for now, but I'm sure someday it will have a better name. Terra sounds a bit boring, if you ask me. I think I'll take you there first, once you're the right age. It's not so far, you know. Only a year, at most."

Lance bobbed his head in agreement, "Yeah. Only a year." He grinned and stood. A year couldn't be that bad; surely, nothing too bad could go wrong. Right? He tossed a hand out to his frosty blonde Uncle, who grinned full-force back at him. "Come on, Xio! We only have so long until then, and who knows? Maybe we could finally find you a girlfriend!"

Both men laughed, and Xio gratefully accepted the hand. Once both were up, they turned to walk towards the hangers, talking of the great escapades they would have on this "Terra". (Really, it was such a horribly bland name for a place as lush as Xio described.

Xavier and Carla McClain-Sanchez were, in Lance's opinion, the most perfect couple to ever exist. Hands down, no bars held, they were simply in love in the most beautiful way. Lance came to this realization when he was in seventh grade. He realized mostly because his best friend at the time, a fiery girl named Rosa with hair to match, had commented on it. At first, Lance had been skeptical, but by the end of the night he was sure. His parents were the absolute best couple to ever exist.

Carla was a short, if a little plump, woman with a mess of black hair that was almost always in a bun or ponytail. With sparkling Caribbean eyes and a boisterous laugh that would fill the whole house with happiness, it was no wonder why Lance's father had fallen in love with her and her smile.

And on the flip side, Lance could also easily see how his mother had fallen for his father. His father was as handsome as his mother was beautiful. But there was something **otherworldly** about him. Like perhaps he were from some other place, way off in the galaxy, where people were just inherently beautiful.

And some days, Lance really believed that.

Used to walking only to find himself in some other place than where he went to sleep, waking up in the cockpit of Black didn't surprise Lance that much, honestly. Instead, he curled further into himself, decided that he'd rather talk to Black than try to sleep again.

He liked Black. She was motherly, almost. Reminded him of his own mom, back on Earth… He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. There were other, more important things to worry about. Like what he was about to do.

"I think I should do it." There, he'd said it. It came with a push of air that would have clouded up his glasses, if he had them, that was.

Are you sure, young Paladin? Is it what you really think is a good idea?

Lance rolled over. "No, I don't think it's the best idea. But I do believe it has to be done."

But is this what you really want? I do not believe you should continue if it's not.

"It's the best I can do. I have to do it. It's what's best, for me and for the team."

But is it what you really want? Black repeated.

Well, damn, Lance sighed. She really did have a point, cryptic or not. The only way he could successfully do this was if he believed in himself, if this was what he really wanted. But was it? Yes, Lance was ninety-nine percent sure it was. So, worries be damned, he would do it. "Yeah… I think it is. I really need to do this. I want to, Black. I really do."

Then do it. But do not do such things in a way so it is such as half-hearted. Do it and mean it, my son. Take your place, gain your crown, do what you must. I believe in you.

Lance smiled warmly as he got up and exited the large Black Lion. "I will. I swear I will."

Then go. Make me proud, Lance. The elder woman was warm, even a hint of pride in her voice.

Lance nodded, patted her on the paw for what could well enough be the last time. "Make sure Shiro doesn't stress himself out too much, ok?"

He paused and smiled, walking away towards Green. He grinned up at her. "And you gotta promise to make sure Pidge eats and sleeps at some point. I won't be here for them, so you're gonna have to take my place, right?" he said, chuckling as Green purred her promise.

"And Red," Lance halted in front of the passion young lioness. "You make sure Keith is ok, alright? Please just keep him safe. And make sure he knows I'll come back for him, if you don't mind."

Of course, Red was practically glowing with pride, and maybe slight annoyance. Just do make sure you do come back. It would be a problem if I was forced to go and hunt you and my sisters [6] down, now wouldn't it?

Lance laughed once again, "You got it, Red. You got it. I wouldn't miss it for the whole universe." And with a kind and sisterly "hrmph" and a caring purr, she let him on his way to Yellow.

"Hey girl." Lance smiled softly up at her. She may not be as fast as Red, but she was steady and she was strong; Lance knew Yellow would be there for all the Paladins, just as she always was. "Take care of Hunk for me, will you? Make sure he knows I'm safe, and that I'll be back soon enough." Once again, a comforting purr and a familiar warmth settled over the Blue Paladin like a warm quilt one would cuddle up in while watching the stars.

"Take care, all of you. I'll be back soon enough." He started to ascend the steps into Blue's maw. "And when I'm back, you can all scold me for whatever you want, no matter how long it takes, alright? After all, we're family and I love you guys." A final wave of his hand and Blue closed her jaw. It was just the two of them now, with a long journey ahead.

As the two, Paladin and Lion, started up, standing and preparing to launch into the unforgiving depths of space, Lance felt his heart tug when he saw the others rise and, eyes glowing, roar into the cold metal of the hangar. A final sendoff then, Lance supposed. And by the times the cries died down, and the Lions settled down to rest once again, the forgotten prince and his faithful Lion were gone.

Elsewhere in the castle, the Altean mice cried for the boy they so loved, who had fled from his home once again.

 **NEXT TIME:**

 _"Lance?  
"Where'd he go?"_  
 _"Do you think he's gotten kidnapped?"_  
 _"Lance! Where are you?!"_

 **[1] I tend to get the compulsion to clean when my anxiety's acting up. A lot of what Lance deals with here is based off of my own experiences, though.**

 **[2] Again, from personal experience. If I get really anxious or stressed (or sometimes just to excited) I start to stutter and have a really hard time talking because I have so much trouble not tripping over words.**

 **[3] For me, touch is something I can really need to get over anxiety. However. It can also freak me out. So since I only liked being touched by a few people (even just in general) and would freak out if anyone else touched me, the people I don't mind know this and are given permission to touch me without me explicitly saying so. However, they are also aware the I can still freak out unless I say so or initiate the contact. This is what I reflected onto Lance and Hunk's friendship.**

 **[4] Anxiety attacks can make someone very tired. 'Nuff said.**

 **[5] I used to have a bit of a fascination with space when I was a kid (I still do now, lol) so I tried to name a system like what you would see in really life. Did I do okay with it?**

 **[6] I totally headcanon that the Lions from VLD are like a real pride or litter. That they're basically all sisters. Except Black, who's like their mother, hence why she's bigger than the rest of them.**


	7. There's A New Kind Of Poison

**I suggest listening to Faith Marie's "Antidote" on repeat for the chapter, if you want the right mood.**

* * *

 **Varadero Beach, Cuba.  
** **Tuesday, July 25.  
** **11:28 Military Time  
** **11:28 AM Standard Time  
** **St. Bailey's Cathedral**

"Today, we gather here to mourn the death of a dear friend, Lance McClain-Sanchez." Father Matthew looked at at the rows of people before him. Some - many - were crying, others shook hands and gave condolences to the family of the deceased. And more often than not, people would remark just how 'strong' and 'brave' the McClain-Sanchez's were being. And truly, thought Father Matthew, they were. It was almost as though this death had no effect on the. As if they either held no love for the boy - though he knew that wasn't it - or did not acknowledge the death, did not believe it. And that was truthfully sad.

Clearing his voice to the now settled mass of people, Father Matthew spoke once more, "I believe it was the wishes of the family that first people speak of good memories. So, who is willing to begin?" - a pregnant pause before the eldest sister of Lance stood - "Yes, please do share."

Luciana McClain-Sanchez stilled for a moment to smile before she began, "There was this one time when Lance was about 14 and he and I went down to the beach. I was going to work on writing and Lance was going to swim. About half way through, he comes up to me and says, 'Luci, look! Isn't that girl gorgeous?' and pointed to a very pretty blonde. And so I go, 'Yes, she's very pretty.' So he tells me he's going to go talk to her, and runs off again. And as I'm watching, he starts waving his arm about and shouts 'Hey, miss! Miss! My sister thinks you're really pretty!' at the top of his lungs." She paused to shake her head and laugh a little. "I'll never forget that day. Some my little brother managed to get me a date at the beach"

Chuckles filtered around the room, all fond memories of the bright boy floating in everyone's heads. Another girl, this one with bubblegum pink hair, stood up to share. "I remember once, we got paired up for a math project that had to do with recipes. We had to choose a meal, and an appetizer, and a dessert to "make" for the class. We decided to do mini cheesecakes for our dessert, and Lance turned to me and said 'Hey, what if we actually made cheesecake for everyone?' So we asked the teacher and the next day, he's over at my house and we're trying to put the cheesecakes in the oven but both of us are too afraid to actually put them in the oven and there's strawberry syrup in a pot on the stove, but neither of us is sure if it's done or not. We got an A on that project. **[1]** "

She sat back down, and so it went. Stories of Lance and laughter and tears filled the room until it was almost too much to bare. It calmed down, and soon enough the room was instead filled with soft music and bible passages and home videos of childhoods. It was hours before food was served and crowds left the small church. And that was that. The end of Lance McClain-Sanchez, who would never return to this earth. Not in this lifetime.

 **~O~O~O~**

Shiro had been chased out of his bed by bad dreams and a bad feeling in his gut. Instead of lying in his bed for hours, unable to sleep, he had decided it would be ultimately more beneficial to wander the halls for however many hours were left until the morning truly came. However, as he walked down the halls where the others slept, a heavy and worrying feeling settled in his stomach. Shiro paused outside of Lance's room. He was sure, thanks to his many late night walks, that Lance often shifted and murmured in his sleep. Now though, the room was oddly silent. Deathly silent.

Hesitating only slightly, he knocked on Lance's bedroom. Nothing. More worried now, Shiro knocked again. "Lance? You okay in there?" he asked softly. Still nothing. He was really worried now. As quietly as he could, Shiro turned the handle to the Blue Paladin's room. Slipping his head into the room, he cast a glance around. It was empty, although that itself was not exactly the problem. He was sure he had seen Lance walking towards the Lion hangars many times. This time, however something was off here. A paper sitting on Lance's bed caught his eye.

Walking over to the bed quickly, he picked up the paper and read it quickly. He quickly left the room, heart pounding and adrenaline flushing through his body. Shiro would need to wake the rest of the Castle.

 **~O~O~O~**

Hey.

Obviously, you've found my little note. If everyone isn't with you yet, go get them. You'll all need to hear this. Got everyone? Good. First, I want to address Shiro (I bet you were the one who found this). Take care of the team, something is going to happen soon (can't tell you that though) and you gotta take care of everyone. I don't doubt you will though. Haha, you're Space Dad through and through. And Allura. I don't think you remember yet, but you will soon enough, so it's okay. I'm sure. I hope Aria died happy though. Ok, so you've all got to be wondering where I went. Well, I can't tell you, and I won't ever, not really. I mean, I'll give you clues, but I can't tell you outright. Anyway, in the left drawer of my desk, there are four log crystals. Watch them. That's where I went. I'll keep leaving you clues. But here's why I can't tell you: I need to figure out who I am, then maybe I can tell you too. But the problem is I don't know yet, and that I have to do this alone. Ok, mostly alone. But listen, Blue and I are really sorry about this. Yeah, ok, I think that's all. Oh and Hunk, I think we all knew it would come to this eventually.

️ Lance **[2]**

 **~O~O~O~**

Mia Nighy had been ready for this day for years. It had been a combination of previous knowledge, and other sources. She shook her head with a laugh, it would seem that Xio had been right. That silly boy had come to her all but 10,000 years ago, and now it would seem that the Voices in the Wind **[3]** had finally come to agree with him. Mia stood from where she sat at the window. She was easily thousands of years old, and her age had thankfully leant to the mass amounts of knowledge that would only help a young man.

She grinned. Lance had been a son to her all those years ago, and she would finally see him again. He wouldn't remember much, she knew, but that was where she came in. To help him learn again; as well as to keep the meddlesome Paladins off his back. After all, her godson needed this and the Voices of the Beyond had made sure that she understood this.

As she walked to the door, the ground and air buzzed with the arrival of a blue clad warrior and the the Winds whispered of the future to come. Lancio had returned.

 **~O~O~O~**

The room was quiet as the Paladins and the Alteans sat in a circle around Lance's bed, the handwritten letter in the center. Each of them had poured over it several times, but it seemed that none of them knew what to do. "Shiro," Allura asked suddenly, leaning over his shoulder to get a better look. "Do you have any clue to what this could mean?"

Shiro shook his head, and started to mutter a soft "Sorry, Princess" but was cut off by Pidge instead. "Hey," they said, and tapped the page. "What does this mean? 'I think we all knew it would come to this eventually.' Hunk, do you know what that means?"

Hunk, who had been nervously twisting his hands for the past several minutes, jumped at Pidge's voice. "Oh, well. Kinda. I mean, I guess?" he chuckled nervously.

Keith snorted under his breath. "Why is he always so dramatic about this kind of stuff. It's stupid," he muttered softly. Shiro cut him a short glare before resting his hand on Hunk's shoulder. "Hunk, if you know something, we need you to tell us. This sounds important."

Hunk nodded. "Ok, well it's just that Lance's brain has always worked a little different. He's smart - "Keith snorted again and received another sharp look from Shiro " - he really is, it's just that he doesn't always think that way. Sometimes he thinks bad thoughts - at least, that's what he told me. I don't really know, just that a couple years ago he told me we all had to die sometime, and that he thought his would be sooner rather than later." He rolled his shoulders, uncomfortable. **[4]**

Pidge was the first one to realize what Hunk's words were. "Are you saying Lance was depressed?" they asked, inwardly wincing at the past tense they had unintentionally used. "And that he might have been…" They trailed off, unable to complete the thought. But by the looks of the other people in the room, they didn't have to. A heavy silence filled the room. With a deep breath that was a mixture between a sigh and a groan, Pidge stood and made their way to the desk on the other side of the room.

Pulling out the four blue crystals that sat in the top left drawer of Lance's desk, they turned to Allura. "Alright princess," they said, sounding determined. "How do we use these. We might as well check them out."

"Ah, yes. Here hand them to me, I'll show you," Allura said, gently taking the log crystals from Pidge. Each was clearly marked with a number, one through four. She shifted the one marked with a 'I' closer to herself, pressing the numeral. The crystal lit up and flickered for a second, before a holographic projection filled the room. And in it, Lance's face.

 **~O~O~O~**

Lance smiled at the crystal/camera thing. Behind him his room was open, and in a corner sat the numbers 0001:03-01 **[5]** . Settling better into his seat, he began talking. "Hey guys!" he started, excited. "I figured if you're watching this I'm gone. I'm not sure what kind of gone though, but it's either I'm dead, or I ran away. It's probably the second one though. Anyway, since it's probably that, then I guess that's where this log comes in. The other ones too. They're clues as to where I am, and where other clues are. So yeah. If I'm dead, uh…. Well, sorry I guess?" He shrugged and reached forward, as though to turn off a camera.

 **~O~O~O~**

The second crystal rolled.

 **~O~O~O~**

"I don't really know how to explain this properly, but I'll start anyway. My name is Lance McClain-Sanchez and I am 16 years old. And recently, I've been having weird dreams," Lance started. He sat in his room, looking tired and haggard, like he hadn't slept well in a long time. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Lance leaned forward resting his head in the palm of his hand, and rested his elbow on the desk. "Look, I don't know what's going on, not really. But I can tell you this: Starting a month ago, I keep being woken up by strange dreams that I can't remember in the morning. And yeah okay, 'that's normal' I hear you saying. But here's the thing: I know they're not normal. And last night, for the first time, I remembered something. You want to know what I remember? I remember purpley-red leaves and the promise of a party." He sighed and leaned back. "I really don't know anything anymore, and it's stressing me out. So I suppose these logs will become my way of figuring things out. I . Anyway, I guess this is bye for now. Or whatever." Lance sighed and once again reached for the crystal-camera thing. The hologram stuttered to a stop.

 **~O~O~O~**

The room was silent. The occupant's looked around at each other, and it seemed unanimous that Lance was gone. Oddly enough, it was Allura who stood and reached for the third crystal. "There's still more to learn," she murmured as she returned to her seat. She was met with silence and teary eyes.

 **~O~O~O~**

"Allura!" Lance screamed, reaching a hand towards his elder sister and father as he was dragged away. He turned and slammed his fists against the Galra soldier that was pulling him away, to the man who'd practically been family - and to the man who had betrayed that trust. It was no use, he wasn't strong enough, not ready enough. Not yet. "Father! Someone! Please!" he cried, yelling and screaming, sure that tears wobbled down his face.

"Lance!" a voice called back to him. The soldier that held onto Lance collapsed with a shot from Xio. The older man grabbed onto his nephew and hauled him to his feet. He began to help Lance towards the Blue Lion, as the Prince was bleeding heavily from his side. "We have to go, Lance. We have to," Xio urged. They had reached and climbed into Blue by now, and the Blue Paladin rested Lance down as he set in coordinates for Blue to follow.

"We have to go back," Lance croaked. "We have to. Allura and Dad… We can't… We can't just leave them. Please. Please, Uncle Xio, we have to save them." He groaned from his place on the floor and Xio quickly moved to help him as Lance pleaded with him.

"Oh Lance. We can't. I'm so sorry, but we can't." Xio pulled and push Lance, resting him into a pod similar to the healing and cryo-stasis pods as he spoke. He started to press a multitude of buttons, even as Lance struggled.

"No! Please, no!" Lance said, more of a scream than anything else. "Please, we have to go back! We **have** to!" But all of his shouting and fighting back was futile as his eyelids grew incredibly heavy and cold settled tightly around him, his puffy breaths making little clouds in the air. "Please…" he whispered one last time as he fell away and disappeared…

 **~O~O~O~**

Lance woke, shivering with the memory of icy cold, in the cockpit of his most trusted friend. Slightly afraid of what would come next and Xio's face burned into the front of his mind, he looked out at the quickly approaching market planet with determination. This was how things were now. He could never go back, not really. And he knew it, too.

Only one word repeated itself in his head to the beat of an old lullaby: Earth.

* * *

 **[1] In fifth grade, I actually did this for an advanced math group. The mini cheesecakes were awesome, by the way.  
[2] This was kind discussed later, but I'm referencing that at one point Lance struggled with suicidal thoughts and idealizations and told Hunk, whom he was closest to, that he'd probably end up the same way his older brother had, and that he and Hunk both mostly knew it would end this way.  
[3] Part of the reason I've been horrible at writing this is that I've also been caught up in reading Homestuck, in which a few characters hear voices that are beyond the living or whatever. So that's where the inspiration for this part came from.  
[4] He's pretty much saying that Lance was (and, as far as the Paladins know, still is) suicidal. I think it's easy to say that's an uncomfortable thing to have to explain.  
[5] I almost forgot this. So this is a numbered system I came up with. The first set of numbers are the time, but the ones after the dash are indicators of with log it is. That's why the first one has an "-01" in the corner, because it's the first log.**


	8. We're All Dying,Theres Nothing We Can Do

**I would also like to mention that the following things happen, or are referenced to at some point, so if it bothers you, take caution: non-consensual drugging, depersonalization (also referred to as dissociation), medication for mental illness, abusive/toxic [non-romantic] relationships, bipolar disorder. I think that's all.**

* * *

Seeing Mia again was like coming home after a long week at camp and finally talking to your favorite family member after so long. She was still as beautiful as Lance remembered her, he thought as he closed the distance, walking until he stood only a few feet away. She had aged, that was definite, but it did not sway the way she looked. Her brown curls were shot through with grey, and her pale skin was wrinkled with laugh lines, but her eyes were still incredibly green.

"Hello, Lancio," she murmured, smiling at him. "There's a whole world to remember."

Lance returned the grin, finished the saying Mia would always tell him when he was young - when he was Altean, "And a universe to meet." And after a moment: "I'm back, Tia Mia. I came back just like I promised."

"You did," the bhikkhuni agreed. Her motherly smile turned sad, her eyes warm and caring. "But you will have to go soon, again. Be ready, nyári fia **[1]** . Tonight, we rest, tomorrow we will head to the bazaar, on the second sunrise you will train, but when the third day dawns, you must leave. Know this my child, for you must seek your uncle. Only he can give you the answers you want."

"I know," Lance said. He understood, he really did. "I know. That's how this works. But promise me if my friends come, you'll give them this." He pressed a small blue log crystal into Mia's hands.

"Of course."

"Then let's have a feast worthy of a king!" Lance grinned, and Mia smiled back.

"Take my arm, like the gentleman I know you are, and we will head to the town," she replied, offering him her arm. He gladly took it and they set off towards the flickering lights off in the not-so-distant village.

 **~O~O~O~**

"Last night I dreamt of Voltron. But it wasn't this Voltron," Lance started with a delirious half-smile. He looked more tired than they had ever seen him - the circles under his eyes were more pronounced, and the bags were heavy. But he still seemed happy, despite this. "It was so beautiful." His train of thought switched rails. "I'm going to visit a friend today.

"Do you remember her, Allura? She's a bhikkhuni; Dad used to bring us to her often." Lance's smile was serene, his skin oddly warm and bright - like he was glowing. He spoke calmly, as if the words he was saying weren't incredibly shocking. "Black says it's beautiful. I think she wishes she could go. Green says it reminds her of Altea, though. I can see that." Lance chuckled and glanced off screen. Reaching forward to turn off the log, he said, "I have to go now. But you can get the next log if you listen to quintessence."

The hologram cut out.

 **~O~O~O~**

The quiet of the room was broken by a small stifled gasp only halfway through, and Allura pressing a hand to her mouth. "Oh, no." It wasn't Allura who said it, but rather Coran. He seemed to know what it meant as well.

"Allura?" Shiro asked, warily. The room - Lance's room - was tense.

"I had a brother… Back on Altea," she said, as if no one had said anything. "He… We were close, even though he was so much younger. He always wanted to fight, to help people. He would spend all his time with our godfather - Uncle Xio. When Zarkon attacked, I - we - were sure he and Xio had been killed. He was young too, only 16. He was going to be the Blue Paladin. I knew, Father knew it. Everyone did. He never got to."

The princess looked like she was going to say more, but Pidge spoke quicker. "Allura," they asked, as though having a startling revelation, "how did the Blue Lion get to Earth?"

"I - I don't know." She looked bewildered, and then she seemed to come to the same epiphany as the Green Paladin. "Pidge, are you saying that you think Uncle Xio, the previous Blue Paladin, escaped - and took my brother with him?"

"Well, it's possible."

Shiro, ever the voice of reason, found his own realization. He asked, "Princess, what was your brother's name?"

Allura paused, before: "Lancio."

 **~O~O~O~**

It was dusk as Lance weaved through the streets and alleys of the merchant city; Mia had gone back to her small house an hour ago and Lance was taking advantage of the freedom to explore somewhat around the town. However, as he wandered down an alley thick with fog, he started to wonder if it was not as good an idea as he originally thought.

The fog was thick and sat heavily in his lungs, causing him to cough; the world started to fizzle out at the edges and his thoughts grew muggy. He realized the fog wasn't fog, but rather some kind of gaseous substance - perhaps a paralytic - a moment too late. Collapsing, Lance's sight turned slightly hazy. Three vaguely purple heads hovered above him; a clawed hand gripped into his shoulder and he was sure he could feel blood welling up. This was it, this was where Lance would die.

Just as Lance came to peace with his obvious coming demise (he was being overdramatic, that is), he heard voices he couldn't quite make out, but sounded somewhat like shouts of "I don't know who he is, but help him". Suddenly, the hands and faces around him disappeared. A flash of white, quickly followed by black, and Lance was unconscious.

 **~O~O~O~**

This time, Lance did not dream of a life that could no longer be his, but instead the one he had, waiting, on Earth. His mother - because even if she did not bring him to life, she had raised him, and that was easily enough - and her broad smiles, his father's - who might actually be his uncle, but I digress - enchiladas, Rosalina - his first partner in crime - from down the street with her wicked grin. That life. The one that shouldn't have existed, but somehow did. That was the world he dreamed of.

But what he saw was not Mr. Ballard's perfectly trimmed rose hedges, or Mrs. Josie's granddaughter Adeline baking pies. Instead, he was met by the sight of ashes and smoke, of dust and burned shells of decades old houses. What Lance saw of the small neighborhood he remembered from childhood, had been replaced by a gutted and destroyed threshold to hell. And there standing in the center of all the destruction, sat himself.

Not the Lance he was now. Instead, Lance was looking at Lancio, the Altean Prince who had died 10,000 years previous when Altea fell. So Lance looked at himself, who he wasn't anymore.

Lancio spoke, "This is what awaits you."

"How?" Lance was stunned, his stomach doing complex twists and flips as his foot rammed into something below him, stopping him from keeping a forwards march. Glancing down, he flung a hand to cover his mouth as a heave of forlorn air pushed it's way out of his lungs. Beneath him, Valentina - his small-framed, precious, little Valentina, his sister - lay bloody and battered and burned. Dead. "Why?" he pleaded again, horror-widened eyes catching and holding on Lancio. On the version of himself that was him, but also not.

"This is what will come. He will take everything, and burn it. Just as he has done to a thousand galaxies before." Lancio's gaze was compassionate, and oh-so very much Lance. But this boy, this Lance, had been raised differently - born to a different world and time. He could not stay.

 **Nothing gold can stay…**

Lance stumbled forwards, towards Lancio, towards the hazy glow that may have meant consciousness, or may have meant death. "Please," he begged. "How can I stop this? There must be a way!"

Lancio lowered to where Lance had fallen to his knees, kneeling in front of him. "Then work," he said. "Train and practice and feel the quintessence flow. Become better than me, or you, or Allura. Become better than him."

"Better than who?"

Lancio rested a hand on Lance's shoulder, melting into the Paladin. Lance could feel the change, the warm surge of power and comfort the washed over his chest. Feel the swirling quintessential capability that left him feeling complete, whole. But his final question still hung in the air, vibrating with such an intensity it forced him to look up. Scowling - a hundred yards away - stood Zarkon, blood-soaked, and victorious. Kneeling before him, his head low, as though waiting an executioner, was an oddly familiar boy.

Lance was shaken back to consciousness.

 **~O~O~O~**

The thing about silence was that it was never actually silent. As Lance was startled awake, a buzzing hum filled his head, slowly realizing he was laying on the low couch at Mia's house. Vaguely, he remembered a head of pearly hair, purple skin, and glowing Galra eyes carrying him back to the small house that belonged to the bhikkhuni. But now, he woke and prepared for the day ahead of him.

 **~O~O~O~**

As Earth - as Terra of the RedGH286 system - came into sight, he felt inexplicably frightened. Not necessarily scared, but uneasy. Earth, where his mother worked tirelessly, where he remembered hands and fingers digging into his shoulders, where he would swallow pills everyday just to parade around and pretend he wasn't a volatile pendulum, where sometimes his hands and feet grew cold and he was a viewer in his own body. Where his own instability, and others', ground against his will. Earth, where his sister smiled, where beaches were warm, where he remembered his brother teaching him guitar, where sometimes his younger siblings would ask for nighttime stories. Where he was safest.

Earth was home to the good and the bad. To the oceans and deserts. To normalcy and oddness. To him. Finally, he found himself only so far away, worried and nervous and excited all at once. Soon, he would be home.

However, there would be new good news brought with him on his return to a small desert academy for future pilots. Instead, he would brings omens and tales of horrors to come. He would be bringing home terror, uncertainty, and the chance of global destruction. Yet Lance knew there was nothing he could do the stop it.

* * *

 **[1] Hungarian for "summer son"**  
 **Also, you can join the discord server I have created here : /mQwMPpb Also, apologies for how short the chapter is.**


	9. You Were A Wolf In The Night To Fetch Me

**Sorry that this took so long for me to write. More explanation at the bottom. And also, this is kinda dialogue-heavy and I feel like it sucks, but that might just because I know what's coming, haha. Anyways, just a heads up. Long chapter to make up for how long I've been gone. Songs for this chapter are "Little Bird" by the Weepies, "The Wolf" by Phildel, and "Carnivore" by Starset.**

* * *

 _Sometimes it's hard to tell the truth from a lie_  
 _Nobody knows what's in the hold of your mind_  
 _We are all buildings and people inside_  
 _Never know who'll walk through the door  
Is it someone that you've met before?_

 **Chandler, Arizona [1]  
Friday, July 28.  
21:47 Military Time  
9:47 PM Standard Time  
McClain-Sanchez Household**

Carla McClain-Sanchez sat in her living room, her husband beside her. Her son, who was hers, even if she had not carried him, was gone. Now, his birthday was coming to pass. There was no party, there was no cake, or Luciana back from college to binge on crappy fast food.

Xander McClain-Sanchez - or rather, Xio Almanty - rested his hand on the shoulder of his wife for so many years. "Let's go for a walk," he offered.

Carla smiled. It saddened her that here was her husband, doing the same things and offering the same encouragements that she had often given to Lance. "Alright." So she let her husband gently pull her to the door and the gardens and the small neighborhood that rested here in the little desert state. And as the door closed behind her and warm air engulfed her, Carla thought that maybe she heard her little boy singing in the streets again.

No, the singing was undeniably there, and as she halted in the middle of the asphalt road, she gasped and raised a hand to her heart.

* * *

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 ** _ɭ_** ** _คภ_** ** _ς_** ** _เ๏_** ** _кђ_** ** _ค_** ** _г_** ** _เร ร'ค_** ** _ɭՇє_** ** _ค_** ** _,_** ** _ק_** ** _г_** ** _เภ_** ** _ςє Շ_** ** _๏_** ** _Շђє_** ** _ค_** ** _ɭՇє_** ** _คภ_** ** _к_** ** _เภﻮ๔๏๓_** ** _, ђ_** ** _คร ﻮ๏ภ_** ** _є_** ** _๓เรรเภﻮ_** ** _._**

 _Շђгєє_ _๔คץร ค_ _ŦՇєг ђ_ _เร_ _ς_ _๏๓เภﻮ ๏_ _Ŧ_ _คﻮ_ _є, Շђє_ _ค_ _ɭՇє_ _คภ ק_ _г_ _เภ_ _ςє -_ _ร_ _ɭ_ _ค_ _Շє_ _๔ ฬเ_ _Շђ_ _๏ภ_ _ɭ_ _ץ_ _Շ_ _ค_ _к_ _เภﻮ_ _Շђє ςг_ _๏ฬภ เ_ _Ŧ ђ_ _เร_ _єɭ_ _๔_ _єг_ _รเร_ _Շєг,_ _ค_ _ɭɭ_ _ย_ _г_ _ค_ _є_ _รץค_ _є_ _ร'ค_ _ɭՇє_ _ค_ _,_ _๔เ_ _є_ _ร ๏_ _Ŧ_ _ยภןยร_ _Շ ς_ _คยร_ _є_ _ร ๏_ _г_ _ק_ _гє_ _๓ค_ _Շ_ _ย_ _гєɭ_ _ץ_ _-_ _ฬ_ _є_ _ภ_ _Շ_ _๓เรรเภﻮ เภ ค ﻮค_ _ɭг_ _คภ_ _г_ _คเ๔ คﻮคเภร_ _Շ Շђє к_ _เภﻮ ๏_ _Ŧ Շђє_ _ค_ _ɭՇє_ _ค_ _к_ _เภﻮ๔๏๓_ _. Շђє_ _๒_ _ɭ_ _ย_ _є_ _קค_ _ɭ_ _ค๔เภ_ _,_ _אเ๏ภเש ค_ _ɭ_ _๓คภ_ _Շ_ _ץ ฬคร ค_ _ɭ_ _ร๏_ _гє_ _ק๏_ _гՇє_ _๔ ๓เรรเภﻮ_ _._ _เ_ _Շ_ _เร ๒_ _єɭ_ _เ_ _є_ _ש_ _є_ _๔_ _Շђ_ _ค_ _Շ_ _๒๏_ _Շђ_ _ฬ_ _єгє к_ _เ_ _ɭɭє_ _๔ เภ_ _Շђє г_ _คเ๔_ _._ _๓๏_ _гє_ _ฬเ_ _ɭɭ_ _๒_ _є_ _ק๏ร_ _Շє_ _๔ ฬ_ _ђє_ _ภ_ _Շђє_ _ภ๏๒_ _ɭє_ _קค_ _гՇ_ _ץ ๓ค_ _кє_ _ร เ_ _Շ_ _קย๒_ _ɭ_ _เ_ _ς._

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 ** _Lancio Kharis s'Altea, prince to the Altean Kingdom, has gone missing._**

 _Three days after his coming of age, the Altean prince - slated with only taking the crown if his elder sister, Allura Esyae s'Altea, dies of unjust causes or prematurely - went missing in a Galran raid against the king of the Altea Kingdom. The blue paladin, Xioniv Almanty was also reported missing. It is believed that both were killed in the raid. More will be posted when the Noble party makes it public._

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* * *

When Lance first set foot on Earth in so long, the sudden gravity change had startled him. He laughed and pushed himself off the dusty ground. Blue was back in the cave Lance had first found her in, hiding. Now, he stood in front of the Galaxy Garrison and watched as sirens and alarms went off, as cars and Garrison officers raced towards him. He was not scared; he was prepared for this.

It took them five minutes to be within half a mile. It another three before a semicircle of cars and motorbikes surrounded him. It took one minute before two recognizable figures stood before him.

Corporal David Harving had been a student teacher and recently graduated Second Class Private when Lance first enrolled in the Garrison. For some reason, he had hated the Cuban from the moment they met. The other familiar face belonged to Commander Iverson himself - glaring eyes, frown lines, and all. Lance almost laughed, his scowl familiar and almost humorous after all the that had passed.

"Who are you?' he asked. This time, Lance did laugh, aware that yes, he was wearing an entirely covering space suit that Mia had given him and that yes, he supposed he must have looked different now. Commander Iverson spoke again, "I said, state who you are." More forceful this time; Lance didn't laugh.

However he did smile as he reached up and easily tugged off the helmet, aware of his shorter hair **[2]** and the blue arches that curved across his cheekbones and temples, and rested above his brows **[3]** certainly gave him a different appearance, but not caring.

"I'm surprised you don't remember, Commander." Lance would admit to taking some pleasure in the half-awed, half-angry look on Iverson's face. "After all, I'm sure I wasn't your favorite. But seems like you were wrong; I turned out a perfectly fine pilot."

He wasn't expecting the gun shoved at his face. "What are you? Lance McClain disappeared and was presumed dead two years ago."

Lance's eyes widened. "Woah, what?" he breathed out. "It's been two years? I've been gone for _two years_?" He hadn't been expecting that. He shook his head, he should have known. "Whatever, that's not why I'm here. I need to talk to y-"

Lance was abruptly cut off by the sound of a hammer being cocked. That wasn't good. Paying more attention, Lance realized that both Iverson and Harving - as well as another soldier Lance didn't know - had guns pointed at him. He was kinda disappointed that Earth didn't have laser guns like the Glara yet.

"Wow, okay," he muttered, not so under his breath. "Wasn't expecting that. Guess I forgot that Earth isn't as friendly as some other people out there." He squinted at a female soldier that seemed vaguely recognizable. "Or as hot." No one seemed to receive it well.

" _Who are you_?" Iverson growled out. "I won't ask again." Wow, threatening. But it was the next thing that hit Lance hard, the stuttering realization somewhat unwelcome. He watched as several - at least 6 - people swung to point their guns at him. Really, a Beretta M9 **[4]** had nothing on the Galran laser guns. The familiar slight tug at his gut as quintessence swirled underneath his skin. It was a gut reaction, leftover from a different world.

A twitch of his fingers, and Lance heard the distinct sound of a gun jamming. There was a look of slight horror on Iverson's face as Lance grinned wickedly. Pushing his shoulders back and bolstering his wild smile, he spoke, "I told you, I'm Lance. And if you don't want to believe me, fine. I'm sure Shiro would have something to say, but whatever. He doesn't know where I went, probably. I still need to go." By this point, Lance wasn't even paying attention - too busy checking his watch, trying to resync it back to Earth Time. "I'm gonna go; I'll leave you be soon." He turned and started walking back towards where Blue was calling him from. It was the same gentle pull at the back of his mind as it had been - apparently - two years ago, when the five first stumbled through the desert and into this grand destiny that still shocked Lance sometimes. "Oh," he turned his head back slightly and called over his shoulder, "And trust me: there's more than just you humans out there. Not all of them are that nice. And be warned; the ones who will destroy you _will_ come. Soon."

And with that he wandered back through sandstone cliffs and ridges, wincing only slightly at how he had said " _you humans_ ". Well, it wasn't like he could deny it much longer anyway. Best to accept reality as it was. _Come on, Blue. I think it's time I take my favorite lady to meet my mother_ , he thought out as he slid into the cave. The two burst into the sky once again in a matter of moments.

* * *

Lance hummed gently as he guided Blue down towards a dark neighborhood; he idly thought that he should thank Pidge for somehow managing to upload Green's invisibility to the other Lions. They quickly landed and Lance rested his head on her indigo forelimb. "I'll be back soon."

With that, he turned and began to wander through the familiar streets, not even noticing when he began to sing under his breath, nor realizing that it was rather late, indicated by the starry and sunless sky. Despite his almost aimless ways, he did indeed have a destination in mind; so as such, he couldn't be bothered when Mrs. Lòpez called out a frantic "Is that you Lance?

" _There's nowhere left to hide, in no one to confide, the truth burns deep inside, and will never die_ ," he sung softly, remembering his mother, his Carla, and the beautiful songs she sung when no one could sleep, even songs that were never meant to be lullabies became ones in her sweet voice.

He turned the corner, arms crossed because of a lack of pockets to shove his hands in, meandering for only a moment more when he halted, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face at the sight of the very two people he happened to be heading towards. He watched as they caught sight of him, as his mother raised one hand to her heart and the other to her mouth. He simply took it all in. his uncle had not changed, not once in all 10,000 or so years that he had lived; he still had those forever laughing eyes, that warm smile. Lance briefly wondered what happened to his cerulean crescents, before figuring that whatever it was didn't matter. His mother, though she was much the same and time had been kind to her, had still changed - as humans often did. The barely visible strands of silver were there nonetheless (though they did not age her, but make her hair seem to shimmer in the lamplight), laugh lines crinkled her face with joy, and her smile seemed just a little more frail. _Though, perhaps that was from losing her son for so long_ , Lance thought with a wince. Any other observations were cut off as he found himself clutched in Carla's grip.

" _Mi hijo, oh, mi hijo. Te extrañé, te extrañé tanto_ ," she cried into his ear, but he didn't mind much. Not when his shoulder was growing wet from her tears.

"I know, _mamá_ , I know," he soothed as he ran a calming hand along her shoulder, but he gently pushed her back. An uncharacteristic frown fell onto his face. "But we have a lot to talk about. Soon. Now, really."

And just like that, the moment was over, now somber. His parents (well, mother and uncle) were quick to nod and rush him home. When he entered the house, it was so much the same: the curtains were still a rose gold that was really more orange, the carpet still brown, the living room walls still painted lavender, and the scent of cinnamon and vanilla lingered in the air. The only thing that had really changed was now the photo of Lance from the Garrison and the flag that rested unfurled on the wall. **[5]** " _Your son fought honorably_ ," they would have said, " _please accept this flag as a gift from the President of the United States._ " It hurt Lance more than he was willing to admit. He settled into the red armchair, slightly uncomfortable with the all too familiar motion and the new knowledge that seemed to try and combat the feeling of coming home. All of it just lent a _wrongness_ to the situation. He sighed.

"Lance?" his mother asked, picking up on the tense air of the room. Carla and Xavier - Xio - settled into the couch across from him. "What's wrong? Where have you been?"

Lance thought about how to answer the questions. Glancing at his watch, he bit back a curse. Going by the calculations of how long it would take them to find the next few clues, they would have just found the one that would lead them to the bhikkhuni. He had maybe two days at the least, three at the most, until his friends caught up with him here on Earth. He figured he could spend a day here catching his family up, asking questions, and explaining what was to come. Then he would have to leave, meeting his friends halfway there.

"I'll tell you a story," Lance finally said to the people who had raised him (the second time) after a long pause.

"Lance?" He could hear the worry in Carla's voice.

"It starts like this: a boy in piloting school is told that the only reason he's not a cargo pilot is because the best pilot in his class flunked out. So one night, he decides to sneak out off campus, and drags a friend along. On the roof, the two boys find their partner, who insists that they're getting alien messages. But there's one word that keeps popping up: Voltron." Lance ignored both Xio's and Carla's small gasps of realization.

"The three of them watch as some kind of ship crashes to Earth. But here's the kicker! It's not from Earth. The third hacks the Garrison security cameras and finds that Takashi Shirogane - who's been missing for at least a year - is practically being held hostage by the Garrison, who keeps saying that he's crazy because he's talking about, surprise, aliens. Oh, and there's that word again, Voltron.

"So the first boy decides that they should rescue them, but it looks like someone is about to beat them to it. Both supposed rescuers get there at the same time, and lo and behold, the mysterious interrupter is none other than Keith Kogane, the flunkie pilot himself.

"The five of them all make it out alive and manage not to be caught. But something strange is in the desert, and they end up in a cave. But wait - there's more! Because in the cave is a _giant fucking blue lion_ and that first boy pilots it into _fucking space_ and through a _fucking wormhole_ and to a _castle_." Carla winced at Lance's vulgarity, but didn't say anything; her hands were too busy being clutched to her chest in silent horror and awe. Xio was starting to realize where the story was going. "Where they find a sleeping _alien princess_ who decides, 'screw it, I need you guys to fly these Lions and help me defeat this evil alien race called the Galra'. So they do; they became Voltron and tried to save the universe. But let me tell you, Zarkon isn't easy to defeat."

A heavy silence filled the room. Lance felt tired and drained, and he just wanted this whole thing to be over. Wanted to collapse at the dinner table in the Castle of Lions, Keith by his side and laugh when Shiro responded to Pidge jokingly calling him dad. He just wanted some peace. But it seemed that the universe wasn't going to give him that yet. If ever.

Eventually, it was Xio who cut the silence, the moment before having felt exceptionally long, but really one lasted a minute or two at most. He said, "Zarkon is still alive? How? After all this time… it's been 10,000 years - at least. So…?" He sounded resigned, but worried, maybe even slightly fearful. Then again, learning that the man who almost killed you thousands of years ago is still alive would do that to you, Lance supposed.

"I… we don't know. But when 'Lura woke up, he was kicking and fighting. Almost got us a few times, too."

Even though Lance had tipped his head back and was staring at the ceiling, he could tell his uncle was wearing a relieved smile. "So," he said, sounding a little happy, "Allura's still kicking? Figures. She always was a fighter, that one."

Lance laughed with him, "Yeah, that she is." He glanced over and sat up as Carla stood.

She smiled down as him and said, "Well, I can heat up some leftover ropa vieja, you must be hungry. Oh, don't look at me like that, _cielo_." She laughed at Lance's startled expression. "Xio explained all of this to me years ago - the whole alien thing. I am his wife after all." And with that, she whisked out of the room and into the kitchen, only to return moments later with a plate of food. She handed the heavenly-smelling and steaming dish to the teen and returned to her seat once again.

"So, tell me where we go from here," she said.

"Right," Lance said and took a deep breath, "I have 'til this time tomorrow, but then I got to go again. The war with Zarkon… well, it's still a war and we're still fighting it. But I needed this too, for closure's sake. Anyway, tomorrow night, Blue and I will head off and I'll find the other Paladins, try to explain what's going on. I've been solo for at least a month, Earth time, but I've also been planting the seeds and making connections. I've got some pretty good ones, too.

"And then, I guess we try to win a war. I just have to hope that it doesn't get here first."

Xio nodded, lacing his fingers together and leaning forward. "Want me to help with any strategies? And it's nice to hear you've got Blue with you. You always were each others favorites."

"Yeah," Lance nodded, before smiling up at his family (because they were undeniably that). "But tonight, I'd just like to enjoy being back here."

"Of course." They smiled at him as well. And that was that. A universe-wide revolution would start at the third dawn to come, but for the night, it was only them that existed.

* * *

Lotor tapped his fingers, waiting. He had once again found himself in exile. Not that that was unusual, he had been in an almost constant exile since he was 12. He supposed, to others, it made sense as a half-Galra was certainly unfit to rule. He curled a lip up in an almost sneer at the thought. And really, the hybrid part of him showed through: his skin just a little paler purple than it should be, his eyes, his ears, his hair.

But that was a completely different conversation, and here the problem was that he was waiting. For, possibly, far too long. And that particular train of thought sent him back to an encounter that must have been several quintants ago. The boy (he assumed) had looked, oddly, slightly Altean. It could possible there was some in him, though highly unlikely.

It was not his stature nor his heritage that intrigued Lotor. No, that belonged to a deal made deep in the night. He was not sure why he had rescued the male; perhaps the quintessence had been calling to him, he would think later. It had taken him less than an hour, and - surprisingly - the two where having a rather stimulating conversation. Lotor would admit to no one that the other was one of the first intelligent conversation partners he had had in a long time - in a phoeb **[6]** , at least.

" _So_ ," the boy had said. " _You don't really agree with Zarkon, do you?_ " The question had caught the prince just slightly off-guard (only barely, any more would be unacceptable), but it wasn't wrong in assumptions. So he had arched a brow and tilted his head just a fraction to the left. The other had grinned, his answer found. " _Then let's make a wager. I - well, my team and I, really - will be in an asteroid belt not far from here in a few quintants, ten probably. Can't say much now, but we'll be there. We've got plans to take him down; don't see why we couldn't use your help._ " He had smiled widely - wildly - and stood, leaving right then and there. Disappeared over hills.

And really, who was Lotor to disagree. After all, he did not especially agree with his father. So, he would wait, for the blue-clad "Lance", sitting here in this asteroid belt. He would see where the quintessence took him, where the beautiful boy who stirred memories of Altea took him. Ultimately, he too was a slave to the quintessence's whims.

* * *

Keith Kogane considered himself several things, but when it came to Lance he was exactly four things: confused, a mess, definitely head-over-heels in love, and frankly, a little terrified. He had had maybe five days, tops, with his boyfriend before said boyfriend disappeared. And, if he were to be honest, this "treasure hunt" of Lance's was tearing apart his nerves.

He was both heavily annoyed that Lance would do something so _stupid_ , but also incredibly worried about the blue-eyed boy's safety because he was doing something so _stupid_ and could get himself hurt. And then he was confused. One of those crystals had lead them to the Blade of Marmora, a rebel group fighting Zarkon, and Keith had eventually come to terms with the fact that he was part-Galra. But what confused him was the words he occasionally heard Allura or Coran tossing around. Not that they were hard to understand, but rather that what they _meant_ was starting to confuse him. Notably, the possibility that Lance was Allura's long-lost, presumed-dead, brother. Which would make him Altean. All in all, the whole situation was making his head hurt.

He looked at the stars they zoomed past. They had just left the bhikkhuni - which seemed to be the Altean equivalent of a Galran druid - and they were about to watch the crystal. Returning his gaze to the rest of his friends, and the crystal in Pidge's hand, he settled back into his seat, heart beating rapidly. Pidge gripped the crystal for a moment before they started up the video.

The hazy screen appeared in the room and Lance's face filled the screen. His smile shined out at them, and the blue smudges were taking on a definite shape now. " _Hey guys_ ," he shifted and ran a hand through his hair. As Keith watched the motion, his eyes widened when he realized Lance had cut his hair. " _God, I just - I miss you guys so much. I guess I can finally tell you where I've been headed this time. It's - well, it's Earth._ " He gave a little, awkward laugh. " _I know, I know what you're thinking, but here me out. I have these plans - and it's all falling into place and - oh, I can't really tell you yet, hmm. But just trust me here. I know what I'm doing. It's almost funny, you know. Oh, but just you wait. It's going to be fantastic._ "

He sat up again and Keith could tell the video was quickly reaching its end. " _There's an asteroid belt no far from where you guys should be. I'll be there soon, so wait for me there_ ," Lance said with that smile again. The one that melted Keith's heart every single time he saw it. Lance waved and the image cut out.

Allura changed their route to head towards that asteroid belt, and the Paladins split up again. Without Lance, the atmosphere had become somber and somewhat tense. They all just wanted Lance back. The sooner, the better. _Damn it_ , Keith thought before whispering under his breath, "I'm coming for you, Lance."

* * *

 **First off, the reason that this is so late is because I lost a lot of inspiration. I hit a rough patch of writer's block and sadly it took me months to get over it. Once I did though, I can tell you I wrote a majority of this chapter in two or three days that I could get my hands on a computer. Lotor is starting to become more important, Lance is back on Earth, and the plot thickens. I really hope you guys like this chapter, which I made longer than normal (though I wanted this to be at least another 500 to 1000 words longer, I hope just over 4,000 is okay). And now, here's what the notes mean:**

 **[1] I noticed I put down Cuba many times earlier, but I felt that Arizona made more sense, so assume that at some point they moved there. I also headcanon Arizona to be where the Galaxy Garrison is, which is why there isn't a time/place stamp there.**

 **[2] Shorter hair is based and inspired by** **this, just remove the spaces ( i . pinimg 736x/ c7/ e7/ c8/ c7e7c8e14be2df0fc6e6399fdedbb71c-new-haircuts-hair-cut . jpg).**

 **[3] I have this headcanon that those colorful patches are somewhat personalized for everyone. Even though we see all Alteans with the same marks, it's just an idea I like, haha.**

 **[4] Common and typical military /**

 **[5] It would probably look like this, just remove the spaces** **( www . united-states-flag media/ catalog/ category/ air-force . jpg)**

 **[6] Time expressions are as such:**

 **Phoeb = about a month**

 **Quintant = about a day**

 **I think those are all the time expressions I used. If not, let me know and I'll fix that.**

 **Anyways, that's the chapter. I hope you enjoyed it and I'm really sorry about the super long wait. Also, the lyrics in the chapter are as follows: at the beginning, the lyrics were from "Little Bird" by the Weepies and later when Lance is singing, the lyrics used are from "Sing For Absolution" by Muse.**


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